The Lost Son of Koerin
by Anders Mayer
Summary: Ulrich from Hochland and Wilhelm from Averland pursue mutants who murdered Ulrich's grandfather. To catch the mutants, and those behind them, they must push through the embattled land of Kislev and into the Empire. Battling mutants, Beastemen and chaos cultists alike. The whole story spans 30 chapters,which I will upload weekly (one or two per week).
1. Chapter 1 and 2

**The Lost Son of Koerin**

 **Chapter One**

Sunlight reflected sharply off the snow, making the hillside almost unbearably bright to look at. The air was still frigid but small streams already trickled down towards the valley floor from beneath the hard crust of snow and ice. Elsewhere it was the end of the plowing month but here in the hills of northeastern Kislev the spring was only just beginning.

Standing on a small hill jutting out of the main slope of a mountain was a young man. He was in his early twenties, tall, lean with blue eyes and short blond hair. His face was long and narrow with a straight nose and strong cheekbones. Dressed in a simple linen tunic with long white woolen pants and a vest made of a sheep skin, his outfit was completed by ankle length leather shoes and long linen strips tied around his calves to protect them from the cold of the deep snow. He watched grimly as a small log lodge burnt, with orange and yellow flames reaching out for the sky. This cabin had been his home for as long as he could remember, his grandfather Johan built it more than twenty years ago.

Raised by his grandfather, Ulrich was curious about his parents, his grandfather told him a lot about his daughter, Ulrich's mother who died of the plague when he was very young. They never talked much about his father though, all he said is that he was from the same village and died in a war before Ulrich was born. One spring the imperial army recruited most of the young men for a campaign against a chaos incursion in the north. Ulrich's father and his mother were married just before he set out, they were going to start their own farm soon after he got back, he never did, only news of his death in one of many bloody battles of that summer.

When a couple of years later their area was touched by the plague Ulrich's mother and grandmother passed away. His grandfather decided to make a new start for them elsewhere. The migrated north to Kislev where settlers were welcomed and given grants of land and tools to bring civilization to the eastern fringe of the country resting against the World's Edge Mountains.

With the sun getting low over the horizon, it was quickly getting cooler. The day had been perfect, the early spring sun and clear blue skies had made it pleasantly warm and the icy crust of the snow made it easy to pick up fresh animal tracks. Ulrich has lived in this area all his life and had been hunting these mountain slopes and the woods in the valley below since he was seven. His grandfather taught him how to track animals, how to set traps, how to use bows, crossbows and even a rarity for this area a long hunting rifle. Even here in the north of Kislev, where trappers made up much of the population, there were few hunters who could equal his grandfather's skill. Ulrich himself was getting to be a skilled hunter now that he was rid of his boyish impatience. Since his grandfather introduced him to hunting rifles, Ulrich had excelled in their use; in this he was his grandfather's equal. Ulrich's grandfather told him about his young days, when he was apprenticed to a gunsmith, because his family was very poor he never finished his apprenticeship, he did however have a natural talent and learnt enough to make decent rifles and pistols. In the North of Kislev this had been a valuable talent, and repairing old rifles and occasionally making a new weapon if they had the materials brought Ulrich and his grandfather more income than fur trapping.

Ulrich had gone out before sunrise to test his skills in the hills against the mountain goats. They were smaller than sheep, quick footed had excellent eyesight and could move over the rocky hillsides faster than many an eye could follow. Hunting them has always been a great challenge. Now especially, as the weather was starting to get warmer and slowly the snow melted away, the animals prepared to move higher into the mountains, so this was the last chance to hunt them until autumn when the bitter cold of the northern winds forced them down towards the valleys again.

Ulrich had to travel far from his cabin before he spotted a group of goats. The hunt has been a success though, the long range of the rifle allowed him to take down a young buck, which was now slung across his shoulders. Ulrich had gutted the animal right on the slope because he had a long way to go back and wanted to lessen the load. Now that he was finally nearing his home, he was glad he had done so, he felt the combined weight of the animal and his rifle beginning to wear him down. Despite this, his feet were moving quickly and smoothly over the rocky, sometimes icy, path. He knew the path well and a lifetime of playing and hunting outdoors has made him almost part of the landscape.

The sun slowly descended below the line of the horizon far to the west and the temperature dropped further, Ulrich was glad to finally be at the last turn in the road, just a few more metres and he would see the welcoming light of the windows of the hut. In his mind, Ulrich was already preparing the story of the day's hunt to tell his grandfather. He lived in a small log cabin away from other settlements, after the plague that took his mother, his grandparents preferred to keep to themselves. They did a little farming for food, but mostly supported themselves by hunting, trapping and selling a rifle or two occasionally when they went to town of Moraveny for the market day.

Now as Ulrich rounded the bend of the road he was suddenly worried, it was getting quite dark and there should have been lights playing in the windows of the cabin. Today the windows were dark and empty, gaping like the eye sockets of a skull. Ulrich dropped the carcass to the ground; no lights meant that something was wrong. The last of the sun now gone below the horizon, Ulrich could not see much around the house from where he was. He lowered the rifle from his back to make sure it was loaded, it was, you didn't stay alive long in the wilds of Kislev if you weren't ready for anything. Trolls, goblins, beastmen and other much worse things were spotted regularly prowling the hills. He started at a quick run towards the house, but as he got closer he slowed down to a walk to avoid making too much noise. After a couple of breathless minutes he reached the house, he froze for a few heart beats, nothing, no sound, no movement. Coming around the well in the middle of the yard he saw dark stains in the snow now crisp from the night chill, he knew them to be blood. The landscape was made eerie and surreal with the light of the two moons, one pure and white but waning and the other an evil crimson disc, casting their different lights on the scene. The rise of the red chaos moon was always a bad sign for the people of Kislev. Looking around with only the moonlight reflected of the snow to see by, he was able to spot two more depressions in the snow, but neither the bodies nor any items were left behind. It looked like a small band of robbers have wandered by and attacked the lonely hut. Ulrich thought it was lucky that his grandfather always kept a couple guns loaded, "you never know who'll come knocking" he used to say in his harsh imperial accent. Coming closer to the hut however his heart sunk. Where the door had been, now there were only a couple of planks hanging of the hinges, fragments of broken planking spread all around the entrance, it must have taken much force to chop through the thick oak door.

"Grandfather!" Hissed Ulrich as he jumped inside. Even in the weak moonlight, coming from a small window on the other side of the room Ulrich could see his grandfather was lying on the ground, a knife close to his hand and a gunpowder horn by his side, a dark stain across most of his grandfather's chest and the puddle of dark liquid already partly frozen on the floor. Ulrich run to his side, but he realised he was too late, the body was already cool to touch, his grandfather was dead, leaving him alone in the world.

Ulrich stayed there in the darkness sitting motionless by his grandfather's side for a long time, only moving when the first rays of morning sunshine struck his face. He knew after last night he could never again live in this house so he laid out his grandfather's body on the bed putting his most prized possessions by his side, he set fire to the cabin. Soon the small building was blazing with eager red tongues coming out of the window sockets and licking the walls and roof. The only possessions Ulrich took from the cabin were a couple of horns of gunpowder, a pistol, rations, a light mountain axe and his grandfather's old hunting rifle, which Johan had kept in a locked box in their cellar.

Now as the sun reached its zenith, standing near the smouldering embers of what used to be his house, Ulrich looked at the gun in his hands. His grandfather Johan had kept it locked most of the time; Ulrich only saw it once before when he was snooping around as a child. Longer than any rifle Ulrich has seen before, this weapon was only a head shorter than he was tall. The make was also unlike anything Ulrich had ever seen before, the seams between wood and metal so smooth you could feel nothing if you run your finger over them. The metal itself clean, smooth and without intrusions of any sort, the wood was dark, harder than oak and not from any species of tree known to Ulrich. This weapon was a priceless masterpiece, Ulrich wondered where his grandfather, a poor peasant and hunter, had gotten such a splendid weapon? Perhaps a parting gift from the gunsmith with which he apprenticed for a while? On the stock of the rifle, a crest was carved, no doubt a trademark of the gunsmith who made it.

He didn't think about it too much, he had other concerns, his grandfather Johan had killed or wounded three of the bandits but the bodies were taken away and the tracks showed that at least a few others escaped with their lives. Ulrich made up his mind to track them down and kill every single one. For weeks now Ulrich had heard plenty of news about a chaos incursion into Kislev further to the west. He too wanted to follow the men from the nearby village who set out west, and fight the evil that took his father away, but his grandfather insisted it was not the right time for him yet. Now there was nothing holding him back.

 **Chapter two**

Wilhelm wiped the black blood from his rapier, it cleaned off easily enough from his blade but his shirt's sleeve was another matter entirely. The blue silk shirt had cost him a fortune and the black stains of goblin blood had made a real mess of it. He cursed Captain Grauenberg for setting up the cannon too close to thick forest clump further up on the right side of the hill. Wilhelm's mounted pistoliers were stationed on the opposite flank of the small Averland army; their orders were to protect the nine-barrel volley gun, the most expensive piece of weaponry on the field.

The plan had been simple, the pikemen would hold the centre line at the bottom of the hill with the volley gun and cannon on the top having a clear view to fire over the top and blast the enemy ranks below. This allowed the Averlanders to even out the numbers a bit before closing to hand to hand combat. Once the goblin morale was broken Wilhelm's riders were to give chase down the left flank and block the goblins escape route to the forest. Wilhelm urged the captain to keep the cannon away from the clump of forest since they had not had time to send scouts to it and check for enemy troops. But the captain dismissed this on the grounds that the forest was too small to hold anything more than a hundred goblin warriors, and anyway would be too far for them to reach the battle line in time to make any difference. Wilhelm then urged the captain to at least set up the volley gun closer to the centre so it could be turned and used to protect the cannon, should it be necessary, but this too was turned down as the volley gun was most deadly if it could fire diagonally through the ranks killing more goblins.

The battle had been going well, with good clear and dry weather the gun crews had no mishaps and were able to put a perfect barrage of lead and stone missiles into the goblin ranks. Within five minutes of opening fire the artillery killed or wounded at least one out of every three goblins. With such heavy losses their ranks broke before they could even reach the line of pikemen. As the remaining four hundred or so green skins retreated towards the forest the captain ordered the pikemen to switch to their short swords so they could chase down the enemy. It was at this point that things started to go badly; while the pikemen quickly gained ground on the goblins a horn sounded from the centre of the greenskin line. The goblins turned around and reformed their line, now they had the advantage, not only were they still armed with their long spears and outnumbered the pikemen almost two to one but on top of that they were now well out of range of the volley gun, which for all its devastating power close up had the disadvantage of having a fairly short effective range. Even if it could fire the pikemen would now be in the way. The imperial cannon on the right flank continued to fire as it had longer range and its missiles could still go over the heads of the pikemen and into at least the back ranks of the goblin spearmen. It was at this point that a goblin horn sounded a second time, this time, from the small clump of forest on the left flank announcing the arrival of goblin reinforcements. Goblin wolf riders, perhaps only fifty of them were bearing down on the cannon, the wolves being some of the fastest known cavalry would make it to the cannon in only a couple of minutes.

By this point Wilhelm's cavalry regiment was in position behind the greenskins to cut off their retreat, but the sudden change of situation made Wilhelm rethink his orders. Ordering his troops into gallop towards the cannon position he only hoped he could make it in time. If the wolf riders reached the cannon they would seal the doom of not just the crew but also the pikemen who were unlikely to stand their ground without the artillery support.

The pistoliers horses were still fresh and eager; they dropped into an even faster gallop. Wilhelm's steed was by far the best in the group and managed to outdistance all the others by several metres. Rushing up the side of the hill Wilhelm saw the goblins already engaging the cannon crew. Instead of following protocol and ordering a pistol salvo first he motioned the unit horn bearer to sound full charge.

Similarly to orcs, goblins usually sorted out hierarchy by size, unlike the orcs however goblin leaders were usually at the back of the unit preferring to let others do the fighting. Closing in on the wolf riders, Wilhelm saw a big, well armed, goblin towards the back of the unit, he pushed his mount in that direction. Before he could get there however, another goblin warrior charged his side, evil grin wide across his green face. But the wolf he was riding leapt up, over excited by the smell of horseflesh, this caught the rider in an awkward position with no field of view behind the animal's large head. Wilhelm kicked the side of the horse turning it into the charge of the wolf rider allowing the enemy to fly right past his left shoulder. At the same time he fired his first pistol directly in the face of the goblin, which never even had the chance to see where the attack was coming from. With no protection and at point blank range the goblins head disintegrated into a wet green and black pulp, and his body was thrown hard to the side toppling his mount over with him. Switching to his second pistol, Wilhelm turned the horse back towards the goblin leader, by now his position very clear with his large battle standard, pole decorated with human skulls, behind him. Slightly bigger than other goblins he was about the size of a human, in his right arm he was holding a scimitar while the left held a small round shield, unlike the rest of his warriors he was wearing a chainmail vest and an old banged up helmet. The sounds of gunfire and horses crushing into the wolf riders were all around Wilhelm now, from the right side he heard what sounded like a thunder, even under attack the cannon crew still managed to continue firing, for now. With only metres between him and the goblin chief, Wilhelm's path was again blocked, by another wolf rider, charging straight towards him with a long rusty lance. Before the goblin could reach Wilhelm, a bullet from the second pistol blew a hole in his chest. Seeing Wilhelm fire the pistol, the goblin chief gave a triumphant shriek and charged as well, hoping to cut the human down before he could get another weapon ready. Wilhelm threw down the pistol and managed to pull his rapier just in time to partially block the scimitar blow intended for his throat. The block was rushed an imperfect but managed to deflect the blow lower onto Wilhelm's chest protected by a thick cuirass. The blade of the scimitar failed to penetrate but almost knocked Wilhelm from his saddle as he rushed past his foe. For a moment Wilhelm could not catch his breath again and, by the time he turned the horse about, the goblin was already charging in for a second attack. This time however Wilhelm was ready to deal with the attack, years of weapons training at his fathers court have prepared him for just such a situation. He pushed the horse into gallop but aimed a bit further out from the goblin to force his opponent to lean out from the saddle, at the very last moment turning the horse in slightly and leaning out towards the goblin as well. The scimitar whistled harmlessly through the air where Wilhelm was a second ago, instead of the scimitar blade it was the goblins fist that hit the cuirass while Wilhelm's rapier sunk deep into the goblin's arm pit. Wilhelm turned his horse around to charge again but he saw it was not necessary; the goblin chief was already dead and falling from the saddle, his eyes frozen with a look of surprise.

The heavier armour, numbers, and better weapons and training of the pistoliers had by now made short work of the wolf riders, more than half of them already dead, the death of their leader and flight of their standard bearer, who didn't think it particularly prudent to hang around close to Wilhelm, proved to be too much. The wolf riders broke and fled in all directions.

A cheer went up from the cannon crew, their black and yellow uniforms heavily marked by both human and goblin blood, several of them laying motionless on the ground. Most were breathing heavily but now they all turned back to the cannon, pushing aside the bodies of those less lucky defenders as well as enemy and cleaning the barrel for the next shot.

"Schultz, take twenty men and stay here to protect the cannon in case they return!" Wilhelm shouted to a small weasel-like man who was his second in command.

"The rest of you reload and follow me!" Quickly, the group split up into two. Reloading, or swapping to their reserve pistols, took them only moments. Wilhelm reached to the back of his saddle for his third pistol. Loaded and ready to go he was off down the back of the hill towards the main melee where the pikemen were barely holding out.

"Sound caracole formation!" he ordered the horn bearer, at the sound of the horn his soldiers formed up behind him in a column of several ranks. This time they approached the goblin regiment at slower pace, instead of charging, the front rank fired their guns and pealed off to the right side falling in behind the unit. The second, third and following ranks followed the same movement. Those at the back reloading before it was their time to fire again. The unit repeated the entire manoeuvre one more time before Wilhelm ordered a charge again. This time however the goblins didn't fight back, being shot at and attacked from two sides was too much for their fragile morale, the entire regiment erupted into a panic stricken rush for the forest. This time the flight was real and the goblins were quickly dispatched with only a few making it out alive.

Having wiped his weapon clean, Wilhelm now concentrated on finding the pistol he lost earlier in the long grass of the hilltop. He had no choice but to discard it during the battle but it was far too expensive a piece to leave on the field. The field was strewn with goblin and wolf carcases, the human casualties were already being loaded onto wagons and only stains of blood and flattened grass marked the ground where they had fallen. Wilhelm cursed again; the battle had cost the lives of twelve of his father's soldiers not to mention a ruined silk shirt and his favourite pistol, which he still could not find. Captain Grauenberg had been sent by the county council to replace the more experienced Captain Hoffman who was sent with several regiments of cavalry to assist Imperial troops from Ostland and Ostmark in the vast steppes of Kislev. Captain Grauenberg was a slightly overweight middle-aged noble, who had, until last month, been a strategy teacher at one of the small colleges in Averheim. He was, however, also related to one of the councillors currently running Averland province, and was thus promoted instantly to captain and given charge of one of the small Averland border guard forces. With a huge Orc invasion force destroyed only recently he could be sure no serious challenges emerged in this area for at least a few years, long enough to earn him a military pension.

"Excellent show my lad, great battle!" exclaimed Captain Grauenberg as he approached Wilhelm who cringed at such a words from a commander who had just lost fully one third of the troops in his charge in a single afternoon.

"With all due respect sir, we took a serious beating and this is only the first spring raid, they will keep up until snow locks up the mountain passes again in autumn. At this rate we will run out of troops before the harvest." Wilhelm replied, without looking up from the grass.

"It couldn't be helped lad, no one could have predicted the goblins to be intelligent enough to use forest for cover," the captain replied, still with a positively chirpy quality to his voice.

"If you recall sir, I did warn of it before the battle, had you listened to my advice you would have saved not only your men but also the dozen who had been in the service of my family for years. I am certain my father will not be as forthcoming with his troops and resources in the future as he was this time. Now if you don't mind I will take my soldiers and return home to inform the families of the fallen of their loss." Wilhelm turned and walked off towards his horse, giving up on the search for the pistol.

"Not so fast young man, though you and your men are volunteers you are still technically under my command. Which means you will follow my orders, or face a military tribunal, and I don't need to remind you there is only one punishment for refusing to follow an order in the times of war," growled the captain, visibly upset at Wilhelm for taking away from his moment of triumph. This time Wilhelm cursed himself in his thoughts, Grauenberg was a pompous arse, but he was right, typically provincial commanders released volunteer forces from local landlords as soon as the main threat was dealt with, but under Averland laws they could be retained in the field for up to six more weeks before a new contract was needed.

"Further more, there is the problem of you insubordination." Continued the Captain. "Fortunate as you manoeuvre was for the outcome of the battle, it was never the less against the orders you were issued with." Wilhelm clenched his jaws tight but forced himself to say nothing while Grauenberg continued. "But I am not a small minded man, and to show you that, I will not only overlook the insubordination and release you from my service but also give you a temporary promotion to lieutenant in the great army of the Averland province, for the duration of the campaign." An odd evil smile appeared on the captain's face. Wilhelm realised he should have kept his mouth shut, but he still couldn't figure out what the Captain was up to.

"A promotion captain? I am not sure I understand." He asked with clear surprise and suspicion in his voice.

"For your brilliant strategic mind, which you have chosen to share so generously with me. As it happens I have just received new orders from Averheim to delegate more of the local officers and their forces to the north because this year's chaos raid has turned out to be stronger than expected. Kislev is so in dire need of good strategists such as yourself son." The captain inserted as much joy as he could into every word. Kislev, thought Wilhelm, the source of so many horror stories it was hard to tell which were true. Only four years had passed since a chaos horde so great marched from the north that the Empire itself nearly fell. Wilhelm's contract would end in six weeks, but if the stories he heard of Kislev were anything to go by, surviving six weeks on a battlefield there would not be an easy feat.


	2. Chapter 3 and 4

**Chapter Three**

The tracks followed the bottom of a steep sided valley. Here the many small streams flowing down from the surrounding hills joined to become the swift Shoik River. A few days down stream on its banks lay the town of Moraveny. Ulrich knew he had to catch up to his quarry before they reached the town, he feared that if he did not, the group may split up or evade him entirely and his questions would remain unanswered forever.

For now, Ulrich concentrated on following the tracks, patches of dirty grey snow in the shade and soggy soft soil with fresh green growth where the sun shone through the trees made it easy to spot the deep tracks. Protected from the cold northern wind the spring came earlier here in the valley, the jade green of the grass was adorned with purple, blue and white of the first spring flowers.

Ulrich was not sure what to make of the tracks at first. Some of them were clearly made by iron-shod shoes, such as those used by wealthier Imperial travellers. Other tracks were made by feet wrapped with rugs. Only when he found their first rest stop he realised whom he was dealing with. One of the enemy had been rewrapping his feet, and in the process made several footprints in the snow with his bare feet. But they were not feet; instead the prints were those of a goat like hoof. Mutants, many of them dwelt in the dark forests, some were transformed into half men half beasts, while others were still more human with smaller signs of mutation. Judging by the Imperial style shoes some of the group had, they were probably escaping north from the Empire where the relentless witch hunters sought them out day and night. These were strong and desperate enemies, but mutants or not, Ulrich knew he would never sleep peacefully if he didn't see the blood of every last one spilled.

Ulrich spent the rest of the day following the tracks; he knew the area and was able to make shortcuts sometimes where the valley of the Shoik River meandered to and fro. He was sure he had made up a lot of time and distance on his quarry, however the day was still short and as the sun neared the horizon he still couldn't see anyone in the distance. The incoming darkness and muddy uneven ground made it almost impossible to continue marching in the night, Ulrich was annoyed with the delay but he knew that the mutants had to stop as well, and if he was lucky, they would have stopped earlier to allow time for gathering firewood and other camp activities.

Ulrich didn't dare to start a fire, instead he found a small niche left behind by the roots of a tree which was torn out by the winter winds. The niche was shallow as was the soil in the mountain valley, but it provided some cover from the chill wind of the night. Rolled up in his cloak Ulrich ate some smoked meat and dried fruit he still had with him. He tried sleeping, but his mind was still racing and he could not get his grandfathers face out of his mind. Eventually long after he laid down the fatigue caught up with him and he slept.

Woken up with a start by an overly curious fox investigating his food pack, Ulrich could not remember his dream, he shoed the fox away, and as he watched it disappear in the darkness he tried to tell what time it was. The sky was still dark, but the moons have moved a long way across the sky and the ground around him was no longer soft and soggy. The chill of the night made the ground hard and icy again. Ulrich packed his bag and got on his way again. It was still difficult to see the way but at least now his feet were not sinking in mud with every step.

It was another hour before the sky to the east began to brighten, Ulrich picked up speed again now that he could see the way clearly, as the sun climbed the sky behind him, his eyes picked up a thin pale ribbon of smoke twisting low over the western horizon. His heart beat faster, and he pushed his legs further until he simply broke into a run. Half an hour later he rounded the bend of the valley between him and the fire, which was the source of the smoke. He had slowed down and made sure he had some cover so he would not be seen but it had not been necessary. The campfire was only a hundred paces from him but the mutants were nowhere to be seen. They must be feeling sure of themselves, thought Ulrich, the mutants obviously made no attempt to put out the fire, or hide their passage before they left the camp.

The campsite had been abandoned for some time, only the smouldering remains of the fire remained. Ulrich could see where they had slept. There was also some empty wine skins, which must have come from his grandfathers cabin. The tracks of the mutants led out the camp towards the west, shallow, the foot prints told Ulrich that they left some time before the sun came up and warmed the earth again. This meant they were still two hours ahead of Ulrich. Instead of following them, he went up the hill to the north, he knew where the river was going and this gave him a chance to finally catch up with the Mutants.

He reached the top of the ridge an hour later; from here he could see the river sneaking toward the north and further off in the distance again towards the west. Down at the bottom of the valley he could finally see the people he had been following.

 **Chapter Four**

Two weeks after they set out by barge Wilhelm arrived in a small Kislevite village some twenty leagues west of Kislev City. Due to the congestion around the city Wilhelm's barges were directed to make landfall early.

While his soldiers and the barge crews unloaded the supplies, munitions and horses from the barges, Wilhelm headed directly for the tavern. The central street of the village leading from the jetty to the tavern was a knee-deep quagmire of mud and horse dung. Evidently other regiments have already disembarked in the village. His regiment was the only one in the village now, but Wilhelm knew before nightfall this village would see many others. On their journey they had seen other barges from many parts of the empire transporting soldiers of various formations, from infantry through cavalry to heavy cannons.

The village was composed of maybe a couple dozen thick set wooden houses on stone foundations. Despite being built from wood, the walls looked like they were made to withstand a siege. They were built of entire tree trunks, squared off to fit together, the windows were no bigger than a human head and there were precious few of them. Even the thick wooden shingles covering the roof looked like they would not burn easily. The remains of winter snow on the roofs reminded Wilhelm how far north they have travelled over the past two weeks. At the end of the village was a large tavern, it was built much like all the other houses, but it was the only building in the village to have a large stone chimney built into it and whose roof was covered with stone shingles. The largest goat skull Wilhelm has ever seen hung above the door, with the words "The Black Beastman" painted crudely beneath it.

Pulling open the heavy oak doors of the tavern Wilhelm paused to let his eyes adjust to the gloom inside. Only the fireplace and a couple of oil lamps near the bar lit up the interior. The smell of burned food, stale beer and far too many unwashed bodies hit his nostrils, Wilhelm welcomed the familiar stench and the warmth it brought after the frosty air outside. When they began their journey they set out from a warm Averland spring, but the further they travelled north the colder it got. In his home province the spring grass would be knee high by now, here in Kislev the temperature barely managed to rise above freezing point, and only during the day.

The tavern was occupied by a few local peasants in drab but warm looking clothing sitting in one corner, a solid looking man behind the bar and three men in imperial army clothes at the table nearest the door.

"Shultz! Neuman! So this is how you help with the unloading of the barges?!" exclaimed Wilhelm with feigned anger but no surprise. "Sir, yes sir!" blundered the smaller weasel like man while jumping to his feet. "We em, have er…we wanted to help you locate the messenger carrying our marching orders!" he finished triumphantly with a confident smile on his face.

"Well done Shultz, excellent work. Now, since you are so helpful, shove off to the barge and bring my horse here. We move off as soon as the unloading is done," said Wilhelm moving to the seat Shultz was vacating for him.

"Yes sir." mumbled the unhappy looking soldier, looking wistfully at the tankard of ale left on the table.

"Neuman, see about some wine, Tileal preferably but Brettonian will do if that's all they have."

"Sorry sir, already did a rekey, they have no wine." Neuman paused to gage his lieutenant's reaction before continuing. But seeing his opportunity in Wilhelm's bewildered silence he finished: "All they have is local ale and, even more local, spirit, something akin to Ostland schnapps. I'll get a bottle." he finished, watching Wilhelm's disappointment.

"While your man gets the spirits let me introduce myself lieutenant, my name is Sergeant Hoffman," said the messenger reaching out his hand to Wilhelm.

"Wilhelm Von Saltz, lieutenant of the fifth company of Averland pistoliers." replied Willhelm shaking his hand.

"What news do you have for me Sergeant?" asked Wilhelm with interest, two weeks on a barge have made him impatient for action whatever it may be.

"Your orders are to move out north towards Praag immediately and join up with General Schwartz who is held up in a small artillery camp bombarding the troops besieging the city."

"Praag is besieged?" asked Wilhelm. "How long has it been so?"

"More than a month already, Chaos came south from the wastes while winter was still in full swing, before the snows melted enough to prepare for defence, their outriders were already ransacking villages around the city. The Tzarina set out to gather the Winged Lancers and lighter horseback units but it will take time before the full force is assembled. In the mean time, the Imperial forces under General Schwartz marched to relieve the siege of Praag, alas at this point they lack the necessary manpower to do so, so they have settled in to bombard the attacking force from a near by hill." Hoffman finished off while Wilhelm listened intently.

"You will have several local guides for the journey, a man by the name Petr is their sergeant, he has fought many campaigns at the side of Imperial troops and speaks decent Imperial."

Just then, Neuman arrived back with a jug and a couple of small cups. Wilhelm looked at the liquid as it was poured into the cups, it looked clear and innocent, but he has heard stories about it before.

"What do they make it out off?" He asked no one in particular.

"Barley, wheat, sometimes millet or oats or buckwheat … or pretty much anything else they can get their hands on, but usually grain of some sort." explained Sergeant Hoffman helpfully.

"I see." Said Wilhelm in a tone of voice, which clearly said he disapproved of this careless attitude to drink, he was after all a second-generation wine trader and he always felt good ingredients were what made a wine special.

He gave the liquid in his cup one last sceptical glance, sniffed it, made a face, closed his eyes and drunk it all down, fearing he may not be able to do so if he tried to do it a little at a time. With his eyes still closed he put his cup down. He opened his eyes, a slight look of panic flickered through his face to be replaced quickly by surprise and finally a sheepish smile.

"Well." he said pausing. "I do believe I may have just found the first thing I like about Kislev." he laughed.

"So what did you say they call this here?" he asked Hoffman. "Vodka. Lieutenant."

"Would you like another?" asked Wilhelm holding the jug with a grin on his face. "I'm afraid not lieutenant, I have several more orders to deliver today, here is your parchment." he said handing Wilhelm an oilskin pouch. "Before you go sergeant, how well was the city holding out before you left General Schawartz's camp?" Wilhelm inquired while standing up to shake the man's hand.

"Praag is a formidable fortress with few equals even in the Empire, but the enemy host is huge and it is clear that if they are given time they will wear down the defenders. If no help was coming I believe the city could not hold out beyond the start of the summer. As is, I believe you will be hard pressed until the Tzarina can bring up the full Kislevite force in a month or so." He shook Wilhelm's hand and turned to go. "Good luck lieutenant. Don't underestimate the creatures of chaos, they may look disorganised and shabby, but they have strength and a blood thirst like no other army you have ever faced. The beastmen especially." With that the sergeant was out the door.

"Bah, Beastmen. Nothing more than bands of mutants who managed to escape from the grasp of our witch hunters." said Neuman to no one in particular with scorn.

Wilhelm was about to say he would not be so hasty to dismiss the idea of a race of half Beast half man creatures, he had read many accounts of the imperial campaigns. However a rough heavy voice with a Middenheim accent cut him off.

"The Beastmen up here are no mere mutants lad, the race of beastmen lives and breeds in every forest of this country and more so further north. The one that cost me my leg certainly seemed pretty real; indeed his skull still hangs over the door to this very establishment." The voice belonged to the heavyset barman who was just passing their table when Neuman spoke.

"And he did this…" He pointed to his right leg, which was replaced with a wooden peg from the knee down. "…After I had cut him nearly in two. I had thought him dead, but when I was to step over him he used his last moment of life in this realm to bite through my leg; skin, flesh and bones all."

"What were you doing here in the north, a long way from Middenheim?" asked Wilhelm noticing the man's accent. "Four Years back I was with the emperors own great swords regiment, a sergeant I was. It was my first campaign outside of the Empire…and the last." He said wistfully.

"A great sword sergeant running a tavern in a hole in the wall village in Kislev?" said Neuman, one of his eyebrows raised in a doubtful grimace. "Aye, the army has no use for legless soldiers, I got a few month's pay as severance fee and that was it, so I figured it will stretch further out here. Bought a rundown tavern here, fixed it up a bit. It does ok…especially in the spring when Imperial army reinforcements march through here." he finished with a broad smile. "So much for patriotism" muttered Neuman.

"I consider this a late payment on my retirement from the Emperors army. And you…" he said putting his face near Neuman's – will change your tune by the end of this campaign….if you live that long." He added after a second of thought.

"Now then!" exclaimed Wilhelm in an attempt to head off any trouble from Neuman, who was clearly offended by the statement "My good man, all this talk has made me hungry, what is there to eat in this fine establishment?"

"Meatballs and cabbage sir." After a short pause caused by Wilhelm waiting for other dishes, apparently not forthcoming, Wilhelm encouraged: "And?" "That's it sir." replied the barman. "Really? Nothing else? Anything roasted? Maybe lamb?" "You could have just the meatballs or just the cabbage I guess." the barman suggested helpfully.

"We had seven full regiments through here this week sir; I simply can't find any more produce in this village or even the neighbouring ones." explained the barman apologetically.

"The growing season here in the north is short and crops are poor, the farmers have precious little left after the long winter." he finished. "Tell me the truth man, do you really think this scrap of northern wastes is worth so much effort to defend? Do we really owe this country so much as allies?" challenged Neuman. "Truth be told this is a vast country, and the land is fertile, if not for the short summer and the constant chaos incursions its wealth could rival the Empire, even now it exports large quantities of grain in good years." assured the barman. "But that is not the reason the Empire sends armies to defend it" he continued. "The reality is that once Kislev falls, Imperial provinces are next, so armies are sent because it is better to wage war and destruction in foreign lands than in your own back yard. In short Kislev is much like the Border princes." he continued, turning to Wilhelm.

"Just as Averland, where you come from lieutenant, is protected from Orc and Goblin hordes by the Border Princes, so does Kislev buffer the north from the worst of the destruction." Wilhelm took offence with the statement. "The south is defended by the Averland Guard and the Mountains." he disagreed. "And the Border Princes do nothing but bicker with each other."

"Really? Remember back to the stories your father told you when you were little, of the great transgressions of the Orc hordes, now, imagine the Orcs didn't meet any resistance in Border Princes and actually increased in numbers in that fertile land…" the barman left the sentence hanging. Wilhelm's face took on a look of concentration as he considered the possibility. "The Averland Guard would stand even if the Orcs were tenfold their current numbers, but there may be some logic to what you say, perhaps the safety of Kislev is of more value to the Empire than most think. Now sergeant, perhaps in view of your former days in the army you would care to join us for a drink? At least until my regiment has fully landed?" invited Wilhelm looking back at the bottle of Vodka with a smile.


	3. Chapter 5 and 6

**Chapter Five**

The sun was high in the sky before the riders trailed out of the village in a narrow column. Heading the column along with Wilhelm was the sergeant of the Kislevite scouts who were assigned to them as guides. The man had introduced himself as Petr, in passable though heavily accented Imperial. He looked to be in his forties, heavily built, with several healed-over scars on his face and hands. Most notable was an ugly purple welt across the bridge of his nose and under his left eye. He wore a heavy moustache, though unlike the rest of his men, the rest of his face was clean-shaven. The look was completed by the small patch of hair left on top of his head like a skull cap, while the sides, back and front were all clean-shaven again. He wore light traveling clothes and a fur cape. On his chest was a clean though old and slightly worn out scale mail. Neither Petr nor any of the other scouts carried heavy weapons. Most carried only reflex bows and sabres, while Petr and a couple of the others completed the set with a light war hammer. Petr explained that they did not carry firearms because they were slow and difficult to load on horseback.

"Anyvay…" He continued his explanation "…they make the smoke and the noise, lots and lots of noise", he emphasized making wide gestures with his hands. "And they can not reach enemies far avay".

"True." Wilhelm agreed. "But a target hit by a ball of lead doesn't get up anymore."

"Ah, this also true, but you vill find where you are going that there vill always be another target standing behind that one, and you vill dearly vish you could fire again," argued Petr.

Wilhelm considered this, he was quickly learning that Kislevites were set in their ways and did not follow many of the Empire's technological advances in warfare. Their warfare was largely mobile, the army relied on cavalry groups called rota, which had no clear fixed size or uniforms. Though their armament was theoretically standardised each soldier bought his own resulting in wide disparities. The Kislev army didn't have many artillery pieces and if faced with superior forces rarely stood their ground, choosing instead to reposition and attack at another location where they could use surprise to their advantage. Serious defence was usually only organised where heavy fortifications of the larger towns were available. Petr argued that in the steppes it is foolish and impractical to loose lives defending miles of open grassland and that one had to choose his battles carefully to exact full advantage from nature and enemy. Though this seemed logical, it did not play well with Wilhelm's honour code, somehow to him it seemed almost on the verge of cowardice, though he had to admit that the strategy had allowed Kislev to survive centuries of countless chaos incursions.

At night they mostly camped in small villages, the towns were few here and already crawling with gathering Kislevite recruits streaming in from the surrounding countryside to form the new regiments. Petr explained that Kislev did not maintain a large standing army and each time an army was necessary, it was called up from the nobles, towns and villages, each having to provide a set amount of troops armed to a set standard. Wilhelm understood the system well, with rural parts of the empire following a similar pattern, it meant the troops were not as well trained as a standing army but the cost of a full time professional army would have been too much for poorer provinces.

Yet he observed that the Kislevites accompanying his troops were well trained, what they lacked in formal organisation they made up for with iron discipline. They never ate before the horses were fed and watered nor did they take any rest from the day until fires were blazing, and sentries set. The Imperial troops by comparison sometimes looked like spoiled children, arguing over whose turn it was to feed the horses or take the next watch, though they too took note of the Kislevites, and as the week went by, discipline improved.

As the days passed the terrain remained grey and half frozen; they were traveling through endless plains, small towns and villages were to be found occasionally nestled in more sheltered valleys. Near by the towns most of the land was farmland, open cornfields for the most part, interrupted by small groves of fruit trees and vegetable gardens around the village houses. As they got further north, the terrain rose up a little, the farmland gave way to open steppes with occasional herds of hardy cattle, goats or sheep picking at the remains of dry and lifeless grasses from the pervious season. After a few more days, the terrain started sloping down, and Petr informed Wilhelm that they had now crossed into the valley of the South Lynsk River, another tributary of the river on which Praag was sitting. Two days later, they crossed a ford in the river, near Baltyn, another small town. Despite its small size the town looked quite prosperous. Being situated as it was at the intersection of the main road between Kislev and Praag and the Lynsk River trade routes. The town had solid fortifications, albeit mostly earthen banks with a thick stockade at the top and stone towers located only on the four corners and above the gates. At the town square Wilhelm was surprised to see several Dwarven workshops and taverns. Petr explained that trade between the Dwarves of the world's edge mountains and Kislev was strong and many eastern towns were home to Dwarven craftsmen and traders.

As they travelled further north, the steppes now gave way to more farmland and groves of forest here and there. There were more villages now as well, though many looked half empty or had sustained damage from enemy raids. Most of the population had escaped to more fortified settlements.

It was nearing noon, the day was warmer than the previous few, the sun managed to melt the surface layer of the snow and the ground was becoming softer. They heard the roar of the artillery a long time before seeing any of the belligerents, the road wound through a grove of forest they had been traveling through for the last few hours. They came to the edge of the valley; down below was the city of Praag, build just above the flood plain. The city was far larger than Wilhelm had expected, bigger than any he had visited in Averland. Colourful onion shaped domes stood out here and there where temples or palaces towered over other buildings. The city walls looked formidable, both high and immensely thick, built out of red brick, owing to the lack of suitable stone quarries in this part of the country. Smoke billowed from several sections of the city, white mist rose from the battlements where the defenders were doggedly defending every inch with steel, lead and arrows. Down below them wave after wave of enemy ranks crushed against the walls, ladders rose up and crushed down again, the battle was in full swing.

"There," said Petr, pointing further to the east, where a fortified camp was established by the edge of the sandy cliff above the flood plain. An Imperial flag flew high at the centre of the camp; the steep cliff protected the back of it while wood and earth fortifications were raised on the other three sides. Here too the red and black army of chaos ranks tried to climb the steep side of the valley and breach the camp defences. Within the camp a platform had been erected, upon it stood the source of the regular rumbling they had heard earlier. At least fifteen great cannons stood proudly, belching smoke again and again into the squirming sea of the chaos army below. Other artillery was interspaced along the embankments of the camp. Regular bursts from volley guns in particular laid out whole swathes of enemies when firing. Each burst precisely timed along the entire face of the embankment, giving the defenders a couple of precious seconds to pull back the wounded and replace tired soldiers with fresh troops from behind.

Gasps followed Wilhelm as rank after rank of his soldiers rounded the final corner of the road and were able to take in the scene below. None of them had ever seen anything like it. Above the battlefield, dark, winged creatures, circled diving at the city defenders or the Imperial camp again and again, each time death and destruction followed, soldiers were lifted with heavy talons hundreds of feet in the air before being dropped back down to their doom. Plumes of smoke erupted from the backs of the imperial ranks when the creatures dived, but most shot either missed the agile targets or bounced off the thick hides and scales.

"Gargoyles, harpies and countless other horrors." Explained Petr.

"Talons as strong as a bear's and equally long, no armour can protect you completely from them, and there…" he pointed below the battlements where a group of extraordinarily large creatures were pushing their way to the battle line.

"…Minotaurs and Beastigors, the biggest of the chaos spawned troops. Only the bravest and the most determined troops can stand in their way."

As the creatures he spoke of managed to push through to the Imperial ranks, soldiers were crushed and thrown in the air. Smoke exploded with a crackle from the back as all available guns were trained on the monstrous beasts. Casualties were horrendous, yet, time and again more Imperial soldiers pushed forward to close up the gaps in the line.

"They will break! We must hurry!" exclaimed Wilhelm.

"No. They will hold." said Petr. "I have seen your infantry fight before, they may give too much attention to silly rules and their shiny polished uniforms, but if they know how to do anything it is holding a line. To let the line break in the face of a chaos beast means to seal your fate, and they know that too." he continued.

"Nevertheless we should hurry, at some point the defenders will sally forth and that will be the time to assist and to enter the camp!" Petr shouted over his shoulder pushing his horse harshly to a gallop down the road towards the Imperial camp.

 **Chapter Six**

Open ground was quickly rising to meet them, and as quickly flying past, as they galloped towards the Imperial camp. The horses were eager to stretch their muscles, weeks on the barge followed with more than a week of steady trudging through the deep half frozen muddy landscape of the northern country had filled them with impatience. The men on the horses were no less impatient; the formation was getting dangerously close to breaking loose into a full charge.

They had reached the open flat ground of the valley floor and could see the innumerable horde of chaos breaking against the walls of the camp. Among the crackle of gunfire and the thunder of the cannons Wilhelm though he heard a horn sounding a cavalry charge, the thunderstorm of cannons turned into a tempest. It was clear to them from their position that the defenders loosed every single cannon and gun they had on the enemy at once, this was the signal for the Imperial cavalry to ride out and smash through the suddenly wavering line of the enemy.

Wilhelm motioned the horn blower to give the signal for the formation to move from column to a wider battle line. Despite the excitement and overflow of energy the training kicked in and the riders seamlessly moved into the new formation.

As they roared in closer at full gallop they could clearly see the flank of the enemy army breaking into a confused retreat, Wilhelm aimed the charge to break in from their side and block their escape, out of the corner of his eye he could see Petr frantically trying to signal something with his hands, but there was no time for it now. Wilhelm signalled for the guns to be drawn and primed. The double salvo of gunfire from each of the four ranks of the formation allowed them to bite deep into the enemy flank. Now he signalled for the formation to turn right, full in the face of the retreating troops, and the soldiers prepared rapiers for the hand-to-hand combat.

Almost immediately Wilhelm knew they made a mistake, seconds earlier as they'd smashed into the enemy line he simply aimed at heads and squeezed the trigger, but he had no time to appraise the enemy. Now as he stared them full in the face he knew whom he was dealing with, they were goat headed mutants, the fabled beastmen whose existence they debated no more than a week earlier, each was as tall as any man but much more powerfully built, and the Pistoliers were blocking their only route of escape.

Wilhelm struck the first Beastman underneath the clavicle bone, the blade slid effortlessly in, ending the creature's life instantly, but another beast was already nearing, and this time he barely had enough time to pull the blade free and swat at the new enemy. The weapon glanced off the beast's horns harmlessly and Wilhelm was only just fast enough to lean back and avoid the axe stroke he received in response.

Within seconds their charge lost most of its momentum, the throng of beastmen in front of them growing thicker and more impenetrable. The same soldiers who seconds ago were dispatching the slow enemy easily with precise rapier thrusts were now outmatched in strength, armour and weapons. To the left of Wilhelm, a soldier toppled off his horse with an axe embedded deep in his breastplate. To the right, Wilhelm's second in command, Schultz was having trouble staying on his horse as it had reared up from the attacking beastmen. Wilhelm reached to the back of the saddle for his spare pistol and fired at the side of the horned head in front of Schultz. The shot hit its mark and the beast was felled to the side, but it was too late for Schultz whose horse already lost balance and toppled backwards.

Wilhelm didn't have time to see if Schultz was crushed, another horned head grew out of the gun powder smoke not two paces from him, he threw the heavy pistol at it and stabbed at an eye with the rapier. The point of the weapon sunk deep into the creature's head, but with its dying gesture it grasped the blade and broke off half of the blade's length. Even before the beast had toppled over another horned warrior run up its back and jumped high in the air, with an axe held high in both hands. Wilhelm protected his head with the remainder of the rapier; the axe shattered the remainder of the weapon and grazed Wilhelm's brow, but was slowed down enough that it didn't bite through the skull. The beastman fell to the ground with a feathered arrow sticking out of the side of his neck.

"You should take to vearing helmets!" Came a shout from behind, Wilhelm recognised it was Petr's voice though his eyes were still dark from the blow he received.

"I …" Wilhelm was trying to get a grasp on the situation. But Petr had already pushed his horse forward through the gap on Wilhelm's right. Another of the Kislevites stopped by his side long enough to pass him a sabre, and was off as well.

Wilhelm glanced at the weapon but had no more time to appraise it as a rider to his left fell dead from his horse and more beastmen were pushing through. A shot rung out from behind Wilhelm, one of the beastmen spun to the side clutching at its chest, Wilhelm dealt the other a clumsy overhead blow with the new weapon, to his surprise the light blade held up to the punishment and even penetrated the skull of the enemy deep enough to kill him. As Wilhelm looked ahead to see where the next enemy would come from an imperial cavalry charge sounded close by, to the east of their position. Within seconds a wall of steel covered imperial steeds crushed into the side of their enemy, a unit of the Emperor's heavy cavalry, the Reiksguard, crushed the beastmen with ease. A captain of the guard shouted:

"Follow us back to the camp!"

"Gladly!" replied Wilhelm and turned to see if he could make out the horn blower, he could not, but one of the other soldiers was holding the horn and needed no encouragement to signal the order.

The signal sounded clear over the bloody field, soldiers looked around to help those who were wounded and picked up some who were not able to ride but showed signs of life. Wilhelm reached down to Schultz who was only now getting clear from beneath his dead horse.

The unit reorganised and followed the Reiksguard towards the Imperial camp. The battleground in front of the camp fortifications was littered with the dead. Infantrymen in Imperial uniforms were finishing off any beasts that were still alive. Wilhelm looked back at his unit to guess the number of his own men who were laying dead further out. As they rode uphill through the main gate of the camp several horns sounded from the watchtowers, signalling the infantry to retreat before the next wave of chaos forces marched forward again.


	4. Chapter 7 and 8

**Chapter Seven**

"See to your men, lieutenant…?" the thickset Reiksguard Captain left the question hanging. "Wilhelm Von Saltz, lieutenant of the fifth regiment of Averland pistoliers, sir!" reported Wilhelm.

"Captain Brandt of the Reiksguard, see to your men briefly, and report to General Schwartz in the main command tent." "Yes Captain!" replied Wilhelm.

The Captain gave the reins of his steed to a servant and walked away towards the center of the camp. Wilhelm helped Sergeant Schultz get off the horse.

"Can you walk Schultz?" he inquired. "Yes sir, only a scratch." the sergeant replied trying not to wince as he put weight on his left leg.

"Next time you vant to kill yourself tell me, I vill stick you myself and save us both time." Petr suggested helpfully, with a big grin on his face.

"After this performance I think the general will see to it that there is no next time." Wilhelm replied gravely.

"Vorry not, var is not play, surviving is enough, and ve survived another day my friend."

Wilhelm did not feel as optimistic looking at his men; he counted only about seventy who were unhurt. Nearly one third of his company was either dead or wounded, and this was only their first skirmish with the enemy. His mind shot back to his own outrage at similar results of the encounter with goblins in Averland and what he told Captain Grauenberg. Wilhelm was sure no Imperial General would tolerate such dismal performance from his officers.

"Go, report to the General, me and the sergeant here vill make sure everyone is taken care of." encouraged Petr. "Thank you." Wilhelm replied, and turning to Schultz added: "Sergeant I will want a detailed report when I come back."

"Yes Lieutenant, will do." Schultz saluted and immediately winced as his leg reminded him of the damage.

 **Chapter Eight**

Despite his mood, Wilhelm admired the banners of the many imperial regiments all lining the narrow alley of the camp. Regiments from across the Empire were already in the camp; Handgunners from Middenland, Crossbowmen from Talabec, Spearmen from Nordland, the Imperial Artillery, even the mighty Reiksguard were here. But it was the banner on a large decorated tent near the centre of the camp that made Wilhelm stop for a second; the Blazing Suns, the order his father belonged to for many years before his age and injuries forced him to take up a more peaceful occupation. Wilhelm knew many of the Brethren of the order, who often stopped by to visit his father; he hoped bitterly that none of them were here today to see his shame.

Wilhelm emerged from the narrow corridor of tents into the central square of the camp, here stood the temporary residence of the commander of the entire force, the colours of the Empire and Reikland, the general's home province, flew proudly over the tent. Near by, stood a slightly smaller and more austere looking tent with the colours of Kislev flying over it. Wilhelm hesitated for a second, the camp was in Kislev and troops from both countries were present, it would be customary for the daily briefings to be held in the tent of the host commander, but he had heard much of General Schwartz and his set ways, he would have found one excuse or another to take control of the situation, while Kislevites were not sticklers for protocol, so he headed towards the Imperial tent.

At the entrance he was confronted by a pair of halberdiers, several more were sitting near by warming their hands by the fire. "Who goes there?"

"Wilhelm Von Saltz, lieutenant of the fifth regiment of Averland pistoliers, newly arrived in the camp, seeking new orders on instruction from Captain Brandt."

"Ah yes, the famous lieutenant Wilhelm." said a clerk looking figure coming out of the shadows of the tent; evidently Wilhelm's arrival had already become the joke of the general's tent.

"The Captain informed us of your exploits just now, wait here awhile I will inform the general." the clerk continued as he turned and ducked back into the tent.

"Ahah! So you are the one we watched from the wall." exclaimed one of the soldiers warming by the fire nearby.

"Tell you what, I don't know if that was the smartest thing I've seen someone do… in fact I am pretty sure it wasn't, but it sure took guts to charge a heard of Beastmen Gors like that!"

Wilhelm winced, it seems the entire camp had heard of his exploit by now. The amusement for the masses, he thought. "Come in, the General will see you now." the clerk said as he reappeared in the tent entrance.

Wilhelm swallowed and marched in under the now parted halberds of the two guards. Once his eyes got used to the darkness he took in the scene inside. Several of the senior officers were standing around a map of the battlefield, making plans for the following day no doubt. He could see a large man in Reiksguard armour, standing near the end of the table, which the map was laid out on. The general had served with the Reiksguard since he was young. He was known to be a man of simple tastes, a soldier first and foremost, and he never adapted to wearing the full finery of a general's uniform. Nor did his armour show any embellishment beyond the practical. He looked to be in his 50s, his grey hair cropped short, as was his beard. Despite the simplicity of the outfit he wore, and lack of decoration, he was a commanding presence, strong, fit and clearly still more than a match for most men in combat. "Best get it over with." thought Wilhelm and recited in his most official tone:

"General, my name is Wilhelm Von Saltz, lieutenant of the fifth regiment of Averland pistoliers, this afternoon I have issued an order both reckless and flawed tactically, nearly costing the Imperial army an entire regiment of Pistoliers. I have shamed my own and my family's name and would like to respectfully surrender the command of my unit to your authority."

Much of the declaration apparently escaped the general's ears. "Von Saltz? Von Saltz, would you be the son of Heinrich Von Saltz once of the order of the Blazing Suns?" asked the general. "Yes, I can see the resemblance." he continued before Wilhelm could reply.

"I had once in my youth fought next to your father in a skirmish with Orcs, at the Blackfire pass, we had been escorting an Imperial official to the Border Princes on a diplomatic mission. A regiment of the Reiksguard's finest was judged to be more than enough to keep the envoy safe. Unbeknownst to us, one of the Orc warlords had at precisely that time set out with a newly gathered host for the empire. I had ordered a frontal charge on the Orc forces before I could see their full numbers emerge from the pass. Had it not been for your father's regiment of the Blazing Suns returning from the southlands at that exact instant, it would have been the end of my regiment and me. We were up to our necks in Orc corpses and it was looking like their next charge may be the last thing we see, when the Blazing Suns charged the rear of the enemy. Their charge was so powerful they cut through the entire force barely slowing down and only stopped when they reached us. The Orcs thought it was a trap and fled for the hills. I will never forget that blue banner with the golden sun emblazoned on it, splashed with the black Orc blood, it was the most beautiful site of my life." Everyone in the tent had paused what they were doing to listen to the normally unemotional and harsh general, everyone's eyes were fixed either on the general or Wilhelm, wondering what the outcome would be. "Anyway, you must be thinking why is the old fool bumbling on?"

A panicked look crossed Wilhelms face, he wanted to protest that no such insubordinate thought had dared to spring from his mind but the general continued.

"Well the point young man is, that I too once made rush decisions which nearly killed me, and yet today I am one of the Emperor's most senior generals. In time you will learn the difference between rush and risky but necessary manoeuvres. I owe your father my life, and I will do a little to repay it by not accepting your foolish request now." The general put his arm on Wilhelm's shoulder as he continued. "You must know also that of the regiments, which joined us prior to yours, many fared far worse when they chose their moment to break through to our gates. Some didn't make it at all."

"Yes? Sir..?" Wilhelm wasn't sure what to reply.

"At another time I would be glad to have a chat and hear the news of your father and your family, but right now I have many a pressing matter here. Report to Captain Rottchild, he will be heading a raid of our combined light cavalry units on the rear of the enemy tomorrow, we must break the continued resupplying of the forces besieging the city if we are ever to win this battle. Dismissed!" The general turned back to the table even as Wilhelm replied. "Yes sir!"

Outside the tent Wilhelm stopped for a while, his mind still trying to make sense of the encounter with the general. A forceful character for sure. Wilhelm wasn't sure if he was lucky or the opposite. But he was glad to have a chance to repair his reputation in the coming days; it would have been a great shame for his father if his son's military career ended like this.

Later that evening he spoke to Captain Rottschild, a tall thin man who wore a heavy moustache with corners turned up. Their orders were simple, they were to head out to the northeast at sunrise, their mission to get through the main enemy lines and sew as much destruction as possible in the enemy supply lines.


	5. Chapter 9 and 10

**Chapter nine**

The sun had yet to come up but the darkness of the night was already dispelled by the light blue hue of the sky in the east. They stood arrayed in a long column, eight riders abreast, waiting behind the gate for the signal to break through the siege of their camp and head out to the east. They were a force of seven light regiments, some reformed after earlier losses. Together the entire regiment under the command of Captain Rottschild consisted of just over 500 soldiers, short of the regulation 700 expected for seven regiments. In the flat open terrain around Praag they would never the less be a force to be reckoned with particularly once the soldiers set into the disciplined campaign rhythm.

Not all of them were pistoliers, two companies consisted of Tilean mercenary light lancers and one of the companies was made up entirely of the Kislevite light riders. Mobility was to be the key to their success so neither supply-wagons nor any reinforcements of mobile artillery or infantry were taken along.

Last night Schmidt had reported 70 able bodied men for the foray. Several others were eager to join but it was clear their injuries would not allow them to keep up. Wilhelm knew most of the soldiers who were killed or wounded personally, since the regiment was formed from towns and villages around his father's manor, many of them served his family for years. He had a full company of 100 when he left his home; some died at the battle with greenskins due to the ineptitude of Captain Grauenberg…and now more would not return home due to his own deficiency he thought bitterly. His thought suddenly cut by movement up ahead.

A man standing on the bulwarks near the gate gave the signal and Captain Rottschild motioned his own horn blower to sound the charge even as the gate swung open. Every morning the chaos forces would start the attack slowly, sending out skirmishers first, to try and guess the weakness of the defence on the day. This was the cue for the Imperial cavalry. As they streamed through the gate and picked up speed, Wilhelm could see the confusion among the chaos skirmishers loosely splayed out on the field. They were expecting the occasional arrow from an impatient defender, but a full cavalry charge was not in their plans for starting out the day. They had no time to react, the first ranks of riders were already slicing through the terrified and now fleeing creatures. They were, like the previous day, beastmen, but this time a smaller breed, mostly no more than 5 feet tall and of impoverished scrawny build. The horns on their goat heads too were merely points, which did nothing to protect the beastmen heads and necks from the riders' blades. Captain Rottschild had ordered them to conserve their ammo, their aim here was to clear past the main chaos army, not to slaughter the terrified wretches in front of it.

The main bulk of the chaos army was nearly 500 yards back to the west. Here and there groups of the heavier troops surged out to try and stop the unexpected insult of the cavalry column but it was too late, the riders had already cleared the eastern flank of the army and were out in the open. Here and there small groups of beastmen strugglers were still in front of the column, heading for the battle of the day. But they cleared the way as quickly as they could when they had a few seconds to calculate their odds.

"We're through!" Wilhelm shouted to Petr, as the column slowed down to a more regular gallop to conserve the horses. "Not yet. **They** chase." came the reply above the noise of the wind and horse hooves crushing the ground regularly. Petr was pointing to something detaching from the back of the main army. It was too far to tell what they were dealing with but looked like some kind of cavalry.

It didn't take long for the silhouettes of the enemy to become clearer. There were perhaps a couple hundred of them. The beasts were running on two legs, like an oversized bird but with a reptilian look to them. The riders too were not the beastmen they had seen earlier. They looked roughly human but instead of feet and hands their limbs sprouted crab claws, the heads human, but some had large horns as well. Both the steeds and the riders were unarmoured, their skin almost white but with an unearthly purplish hue, like that of a rotting corpse. "Demons. Demons of Slaanesh." Petr spat out.

"What is a Slaanesh?" Wilhelm wasn't familiar with the name.

"Lord of Change, one of chaos gods. Be careful not to get closer than the length of a horse to them, the beasts they ride can pull you dovn vith their tongue like an _arkan_.

"Like a what?" Wilhelm was feeling more like he stumbled into a language lesson than a war raid.

"An Arkan, like the veapon the _kurgan_ use." responded Petr, but seeing the confused look on Wilhelm's face again he added: "Rope, a long rope! Just stay avay from them, shoot them before they get close or you die!" This was finally a clear instruction Wilhelm understood, he also had more trust in Petr's judgement now, and issued a command to use pistols first to his company.

The enemy were now only a hundred paces back or so, Wilhelm's column rode over the top of a small hill, the front of the column disappeared from view over the low summit, a horn signal to turn right sounded from Captain Rottschield's command. The riders all responded well, following the lead of the ranks in front of them, the column proceeded with a sharp pin turn manoeuvre. It did so at a moment when the front riders were disappearing for a brief moment from the enemy's view, the mutant creatures had little warning when the front of the column reappeared heading straight past them at a distance of only 30 paces or so. A command to fire was sounded, and the entire right side of the column erupted with fire and smoke.

Wilhelm shot at the chest of one of the mutant riders and was gratified to see the creature topple to the ground, though the monstrous steed seemed intent on staying in the enemy formation.

"The steed, aim at the steed!" he heard a shout from where Petr was riding. Wilhelm switched to a second pistol and fired at the head of one of the last beasts they were passing, it exploded in a splash of purple and both the headless carcass and the rider cartwheeled to a purple bloody stop a few paces on. The creatures were going too fast to manoeuvre, they could not turn sharply enough to engage in hand-to-hand combat and seemed to lack any missile weapons. As they watched the enemy swing a wide circle to the right to face them again the column slowed and turned about presenting a broad front where its right side was earlier.

"Reload!" shouted Wilhelm to his company. "Rapiers out!" he heard to his left from one of the Tilean mercenary companies. Wilhelm didn't know how each company lieutenant prepared for the coming charge, but he didn't have the time now as he tried to get both his pistols primed for it. He was glad he had the new flintlock firing mechanism, most of the riders who were using the older models only managed to get one pistol ready before the order to charge came.

The entire formation started off with a trot, but quickly switched to gallop as the enemy got closer again. Having killed perhaps a third of the creatures with no own losses in their earlier manoeuvre the soldiers were now in good spirits and many cheered as they charged.

When the chaos cavalry was less than 30 paces from Wilhelm, he fired his first pistol, which was a signal for the rest of the company. Their combined firepower allowed them to wipe out nearly every creature in their section of the battle line. Wilhelm fired the second pistol at the head of one of the few remaining beasts and reached for the sabre Petr gave him to replace his lost rapier.

As his company ploughed through the remainder of the sparse enemy line, Wilhelm had time to look to the left, where the Tilean charge had not gone nearly as well as their own. With rapiers in hand, the mercenaries expected to close with the enemy but the monstrous steeds shot out long tongues with lightning speed, ripping riders off their horses and bringing them close. Once close, the claws of the demon riders could finish them off. As the demons killed the Tilean soldiers, both demon and steed began to exude a purplish glow and seemed to gain in strength and speed.

"Reform!" Wilhelm ordered his company as they slowed and turned around. The riders levelled the front of the formation.

"Rapiers!" he looked around, wishing he still had a shot left, but there was no time to reload this time, nearly all of his soldiers were also down to their rapiers.

"Charge!"

This time they started straight into gallop, as the distance was short. They slammed into the back of the enemy line hard, luckily for Wilhelm's men, the beasts were so engrossed with the carnage in front of them they didn't see them coming at all. Most of the riders were dispatched easily. Their monstrous steeds on the other hand were a different matter. A soldier to Wilhelm's right was snared by the tongue of one of the beasts and ripped from the saddle. Wilhelm spurred his horse to slam into the side of the monstrous beast and struck at the neck, he had to slash three times before the blade managed to cut through the thick skin and into the spine. Around him other beasts were now being finished off, the battle was won but the Tilean company had paid a heavy toll in lives.

 **Chapter Ten**

"Demons of Slaanesh." Captain Rottschild was explaining what they had been fighting to Wilhelm and a couple of the other lieutenants as they rode on towards the east later that morning.

"Only the best horses can outrun them. We don't see them very often, but when we do it is never good news. They serve a wicked mockery of a god they call Slaanesh here. Those who fall to the lure of chaos and serve him usually fall to the lowest depth of depravity and base desires."

The captain looked back over his shoulder at the Tileans who were now riding in the centre of the column. "Almost forty dead, poor bastards, a hard way to learn the rapier isn't much of a weapon out here." Wilhelm thought about that, his own rapier broke during the first skirmish with beastmen, now he was feeling almost lucky.

"It is very popular in the south, were we came from in Averland as well. I may well have ordered my company to switch to them before the charge, were it not for my scout's advice."

"Yes, the Kislevites know what they are doing." the captain looked wistful for a moment. "When I first came to Kislev I doubted their quality in battle, they seemed to lack the organisation for it…But I soon learned, that out here the rules of war are different. Good training helps, but flexible tactics are key, follow the same strategies as taught in the Imperial colleges and you will soon end up dead."

"Funny, my experience here seems to be very similar to that which you just described." replied Wilhelm.

"Nothing funny about it." said Rottschild his face and voice suddenly very serious as he continued. "Half the troops sent out here have no combat experience at all, few months training at best. The Imperial army is still weak from the great invasion. The borders with Brettonia, and Orc lands have erupted with fresh conflicts as our enemies take advantage of our situation. Even the border with Marienburg is suddenly tense as the city-state seeks to regain some of the lands it had lost in the past. But this, this out here is not the same kind of war. The price of defeat here is not lost control of a border county, or a few villages sacked by Orcs. Here we fight for our very existence, yet we have no proper strategy, training or even equipment for it."

Later towards the afternoon the Kislevite scouts informed them they would pass close to where a village used to be before the invasion. The column turned towards it. They found it burned out and empty. No supplies, no animals, no people, not even a single dead body in sight. Wilhelm hoped the villagers had managed to get away, though something told him it was unlikely and he did not want to think about what happened here.

The captain ordered them to camp in the village for the night. It was empty and burned out, but the few low remains of walls still provided some shelter from the wind and the cover needed to keep a few low fires to keep warm by. The village was also built on a slight hill and used to be fortified by a stockade, that was mostly gone now, but fragments of the perimeter still remained and would make defence easier if it came to it.

The next morning they split up. They were to spread out in a fan across the plains. Wilhelm's regiment was sent to the northeast. Everyone was ordered to avoid confrontation with bigger enemy formations, but do as much damage as possible to enemy supply trains and scouting units they run into. The landscape was different now, it wasn't the same country he had travelled through on his way north from the barge. Perhaps once it would have looked similar, but not now. The villages were all burned and pillaged, no crops remained in the fields, wells were poisoned, even the fruit trees were chopped down and burned. The land was trampled by the passing of hundreds of hoofed feet, most likely belonging to the beastmen creatures they had fought before.

But there was something that bothered Wilhelm and the others more than the destruction, it was the lack of bodies. They didn't expect any of the villagers to have survived, nor would they have expected the beastmen to burry the dead, yet not one body was found. None of the soldiers spoke of it, all knew there was only one explanation, yet they were all still sickened when they found the proof of what they had been thinking.

Late morning two days after they had split up, the scouts spotted a train of supply wagons heading southwest. Wilhelm ordered an attack and they easily overwhelmed the beastmen that drove the train and the large boar like beasts, which were used to pull the wagons. Despite their worst fears though, no one was prepared for the sight of the cargo in the wagons. Each wagon was loaded with human bodies, but not in the same way, as a wagon would be in a city during a plague, here the bodies were all chopped into cuts. Limbs, torsos, heads all separated and arranged in the wagons. It was a grim task to push the wagons together and burn them all. The ground was still frozen just underneath the surface so burial was not possible.

Over the next three days they were able to intercept two more "supply" trains, each time with the same horrible cargo. So, when on the fourth day they saw a few beastmen camped near the edge of the forest besides a wagon, a few of the soldiers didn't wait for orders and charged immediately.

"Halt!" yelled Wilhelm after the galloping horses, but it was too late. They couldn't hear him and probably would not stop if they had heard. Wilhelm didn't like the look of it, beastmen usually travelled in bigger groups, and there was no way of telling what was hiding in the trees. He ordered the rest of the company to follow, but at a steadier pace, and without orders to charge. As they rode closer his fears were confirmed, as soon as the first group got near, more beastmen surged out of the forest.

"Prepare pistols!" ordered Wilhelm while he angled the column to swing by the edge of the forest. Wilhelm could see the first group of riders was in trouble already, fully surrounded by the beastmen now, while many more Beastmen were still streaming out of the forest.

"Schultz, we only get one shot at this, no matter how many of them we can get out and how many fall, sound the retreat as soon as the line finishes the first pass. Too many of them for us!"

"Yes Sir!" replied the sergeant and pushed his horse closer to the horn bearer who would signal the order.

Wilhelm steered the column just deep enough into the milling beastmen to give the first group a chance to break through to them. As the column opened fire, it seemed to be working, the company sliced right through the head of the heard streaming out of the forest and at least some of the soldiers who were trapped were able to swing near the main column but when it came to riding out of the trap it got harder. They had already fired their guns and were down to slashing and stubbing their way out. Retreat, sounded the horn and everyone pushed even harder, here and there a soldier was pulled off his horse. Just as Wilhelm was about to clear the last of the beastmen, his horse fell; one of the beastmen had managed to stab a spear through its chest right before it had trampled him. Animal and rider both went down, and the world went dark.

Wilhelm's vision cleared slowly, the noise of the world rushed in, with the light pain too, his leg was trapped under his dead horse. Wilhelm looked around, he must have been out for only a few moments, the skirmish was still going on, but further away from the forest now. The riders were retreating and the entire herd of beastmen was in pursuit, maybe as many as three hundred of them. Wilhelm struggled to pull his leg free, the beastmen have not seen him when they run through the area because he was behind his stead, but now he needed to get out fast before any returned. After a couple more attempts, he was able to inch his leg out, it didn't seem to be broken although it was heavily bruised. Wilhelm grabbed one of his pistols; the other was lost when he fell. His gunpowder and shot was under the horse though, nothing he could do about it now he thought and run for the forest edge, he had no chance in the open, the forest was the only way out.


	6. Chapter 11 and 12

**Chapter Eleven**

Cresting the hill, Ulrich was able to see right across the valley, which narrowed to just a few hundred paces here. The view was good from where he stood. The slopes rolling towards the fast flowing river in the bottom were broken in a few places, exposing the solid rock which the river cut into, they were covered with hardy grasses, just regaining their green hue in the spring sun. Rocks and boulders littered the broken ground but almost no trees grew here to block Ulrich's view. Down the hill near the edge of the river he finally spotted what he was looking for, the mutants had stopped about 200 paces away from him at the bottom of the valley. He recognised the unnaturally bent shapes, he had heard of them many times, here in the north they often formed bands that stole and robbed when they could. From the crest of the ridge he could see some of them had misshapen limbs, others crooked backs. There were eight of them and they were not alone, the mutants had spread out in a rough circle, trapping someone in the middle. They must have surprised a careless local trapper or trader who camped near the river overnight. Strange, thought Ulrich, people in these parts knew the forest was dangerous, rarely traveling alone or letting their guard down. From the top of the hill Ulrich was unable to make out who their victim was, but this was not important, it afforded Ulrich an opportunity to eliminate some of the mutants. They were his enemy, anyone fighting them was a friend. One of the mutants, maybe their leader, stood back as the rest of the group, weapons drawn, tightened the circle. Their victim was desperately looking around for a way out. Ulrich didn't have much time to plan; he knew he could not run down in time to make any difference in the fight. He also knew that hitting a man-sized target from this far was near impossible. Still, firing a shot at the mutants may at least distract them enough to give the unfortunate man a chance to make a run for it. Ulrich dropped his pack and lay down on the grass resting his grandfather's rifle across a rock for stability. He checked the charge was set and dry. He took aim carefully for the back of the mutant nearest to him and slowly squeezed the trigger as he let his breath out. The butt of the rifle kicked back hard, but he held steady and was rewarded for it, as he held his breath and watched the mutant he was aiming for fall forwards with a gaping hole in the back of his head. Despite having gotten himself surrounded the would-be-victim of the mutants was obviously a sharp-witted man, he leapt through the gap in the circle before the mutants could react. He made off ten paces up the hill before they turned to run after him. Ulrich cleaned the barrel and reached for another charge from his bag, his grandfather taught him how to prepare them; they contained the right amount of powder for one shot and saved a lot of time in loading the gun. He tore the charge and emptied the contents into the gun barrel, quickly compressing the contents with a plunger and following it up with a lead round and a small piece of cloth. For each breath he took the figures running up the slope gained ground, but the one in the front maintained his lead for now. They had covered maybe a quarter of the distance over the rough ground before Ulrich finished loading, the long barrel making this a little slower than usual. He knelt this time, to get a clearer view of the figures hugging the hillside. Again he took careful aim and squeezed the trigger. The mutant leading the chase had seen the smoke of the shot and tried jumping to the side, but too late, the bullet still caught his side spinning him around and knocking him a few paces down the hill. The rest of the mutants stopped and ducked behind rocks, but soon hearing no other shots, continued in pursuit. Once more, Ulrich reloaded and prepared to fire, the traveller running in the front had covered more than half the distance from the bottom of the slope now, the nearest mutant was almost 30 paces behind him. Ulrich took aim and fired, this time the mutants were expecting the shot to come soon and they all fell to the ground as soon as they saw the smoke from the gun, the bullet whistled harmlessly over the mutant in the lead. Ulrich pulled out a pistol from the pack; he kept it loaded apart from the lead round, which he pushed in now. He knew there was no chance of hitting anyone from this far, but hoped the shot coming far too soon would scare the mutants. He fired at the lead mutant, the shot did indeed thud into the ground harmlessly several paces away from the target. But Ulrich's gamble paid off, the mutants had figured he was the only shooter earlier, now with a second shot coming so close after the rifle they were not so sure anymore. They slowed down markedly, picking more covered parts of the slope to make their way up. Ulrich reloaded the pistol before the traveller made it the last few paces up the hill, then picked up the pack and got ready to set out. The mutants were more careful now and gave him no more opportunity for a clear shot, nor was he going to wait around for them.

Finally the man clambered over the edge of the ledge Ulrich was shooting from, he was not a traveller, he had a torn and stained uniform on him and apart from a sabre in his right hand and a pistol in the left, no other possessions. Blood stained the side of his head, though the dark hair masked the wound, he was of a heavier build and looked to be a couple years older than Ulrich.

"Thank...you." the soldier managed to say as he gasped for air. He spoke the Kislevite word but with a heavy imperial accent.

"Glad to be of service." replied Ulrich in Imperial. "No time to rest now, we need to move." he said as he turned to start down the opposite side of the slope.

"The name's Ulrich." he finished over his shoulder.

"Wilhelm, until recently, a Lieutenant in an Imperial Pistoliers regiment." a reply came from the stranger.

 **Chapter Twelve**

Both men run down the other side of the ridge quickly, Ulrich in front slowing sometimes to allow Wilhelm to keep up. They headed towards the southeast where the valley widened and forest again covered the slopes. For a while no sound followed them from behind; the mutants carefully crested the ridge expecting an ambush. Soon however Ulrich heard the shouts of their pursuers, more than a hundred paces back now but running hard to catch up. The edge of the forest loomed a few hundred meters in front. For a while it looked like they may get to it before the pursuers catch up with them. But Wilhelm was exhausted from running up the steep hill and couldn't keep up with Ulrich much longer. Ulrich looked back as he rounded a boulder, the mutants had spread out, two of them ahead of the rest of the group and gaining on Ulrich and Wilhelm quickly. Wilhelm saw Ulrich looking back.

"We have to stand and fight, we cannot outrun them!" he yelled.

"I am not much of a fighter!" Ulrich yelled still running. "Shooting is more my specialty." he added.

"If we can make it to that ravine we may be able to surprise the two in the front before the rest catches up with us!" yelled Wilhelm.

Ulrich knew they couldn't stand their ground against all the mutants, most of whom looked to be much bigger men than either himself or Wilhelm. But seeing no alternative he turned towards the ravine running down the slope to their left.

As they neared the edge of the shallow ravine he saw a large bolder a bit further up the slope, Ulrich in the lead, the two men pushed to their limit running first along the edge than into and up the ravine until the bolder hid them from their pursers.

Ulrich turned around dropped the rifle and held the pistol in his right hand while supporting it with the left. His hands were shaking badly from the heavy run. His lungs screamed for air as he vainly tried to steady his breath counting the seconds before their pursuers caught up with them. Wilhelm crouched at the edge of the bolder ready with his sabre. The ravine would have kept them out of view of the mutants for about 50 paces if they kept running, so when the two leading pursuers rounded the bolder surprise flashed in their eyes. Only for a second though, Ulrich aimed and fired at the chest of the mutant in front, he fell forward knocking Ulrich down with his bulk.

Wilhelm was less lucky, he tried to slide the tip of the sabre into the gut of the onrushing man but it struck something hard and slid aside harmlessly. The mutant swung at him with the mace he was holding in his right hand but didn't have time to aim well and the blow only grazed Wilhelm's shoulder. Using his momentum, the creature rushed Wilhelm, the fall rolled both of them over a couple of meters and the mutant came out on top pinning Wilhelm's throat with his left arm and the strange crablike claw it ended in. He looked around for his mace, seeing it was out of his reach, he turned back to the pinned victim. But the short moment gave Wilhelm time to smash the pistol he was holding in his left hand against the side of the mutant's head, knocking him off to the side. Wilhelm struggled to his feet and faced his opponent again, he had only his pistol now to defend against the massive claw which ended the mutant's arm. Wilhelm sprung forward swinging the pistol at the mutants head again, this time the enemy knocked it aside easily with his claw and knocked Wilhelm down again with his right arm. As he turned to knock Wilhelm out with the claw his eyes suddenly seemed to loose focus, his arms flopped to his sides and he slowly toppled over next to Wilhelm. Surprised Wilhelm stood up, as he did so he saw Ulrich walking over to pull his climbing axe from the back of the mutants head.

"Thanks, looks like I owe you again." Wilhelm said as he picked up his weapons.

"Hurry up or you'll get a chance to pay me back sooner than you wish." Ulrich

replied, bending down to pick up his pistol and rifle from the ground. But as he bent down to pick up his rifle they heard the steps of the remaining mutants just a few meters off. Ulrich quickly jumped to stand against the boulder again; Wilhelm rushed over to his side.

The mutants run into the ravine at top speed, they heard the shot and knew the fight was on but didn't have time to plan for it. This gave Wilhelm and Ulrich a chance to strike first. The three big men rushed in expecting to see combat, instead they rushed past Ulrich and Wilhelm, noticing them as they passed, but not quickly enough to stop. Ulrich struck first, stepping forward using the rifle as a club he swung hard for the head of the nearest enemy. The man was trying to turn and readjust his weight just as the heavy wooden stock of the gun connected with its target with a sickening wet thud and he immediately dropped to the ground motionless. Wilhelm followed suit and slashed at one of the other opponents, the blade cut deep into the fur clothes the mutant was wearing but though it came up soaked with blood it seemed to have no effect on the man.

The ambush was over; both the remaining mutants turned and faced the two men, for a second, nobody moved. Both remaining mutants had crooked backs, which was probably why they had run slower. But what their bodies lost in shape they gained in size, the man facing Wilhelm was at least twice his weight; the arms were more like a bear's than a man's, and long fangs protruded from his mouth. To his horror Wilhelm realised the fur clothes weren't clothes at all, the man was covered with fur, mutated into a creature somewhere between a bear and a human. The bear man's face smiled a little, showing his fangs as he stared Wilhelm down, weighing the large axe he held in both hands.

The other mutant opposing Ulrich was not as big; his body was mostly human, though on his left he had an extra arm growing from beneath his armpit. All three arms held long curved daggers. His face was a hideous mask of orange overlapping folds of skin; only one of the eyes was visible, glowing with an angry yellow pupil. As he stared at Ulrich a hint of recognition and surprise flashed through his eyes.

"You!?" he hissed with such fury as if he knew Ulrich well. Ulrich shuddered, he had never seen a creature such as this close up, though he had heard much about them and sometimes one or two would be hanging on the town stockade as a curiosity during market days. Now it seemed as if the creature knew him, and not only that, it seemed to hate him with all its being.

Both Wilhelm and Ulrich made the same mistake, unused to such sights; they stared a little too long. The smaller of the two mutants sprung first with a snarl of anger, all three daggers aiming to converge on Ulrich's chest. Ulrich managed the swat at the mutant but late, the rifle got in the mutants way but one of the daggers slashed at Ulrich's left hand forcing him to drop the heavy weapon and step back.

Meanwhile the bear creature had swung the huge axe as if to cleave Wilhelm in two, the man ducked under the blow and came up to the left of the creature slashing at it again with the sabre. The blow reached its target but again to no other effect than to anger the beast that let out a roar and charged again, axe raised.

Ulrich was too busy to notice Wilhelm's trouble; trying to defend himself with only his climbing axe he had to step back with every blow. Ulrich was quicker and had a longer range than the mutant, but he lacked the opponent's experience and he had only one weapon to defend against three. The mutant was clearly gaining the upper hand and it was just a question of time before Ulrich would make a costly mistake.

Wilhelm had more experience, though the sabre was not his first choice, being the son of a knight, he was well trained in fencing, he was also a better judge of fighting strength. He knew it would take both of them to bring down the bear creature, but he saw that Ulrich was having trouble with the smaller mutant. The next time the huge creature swung the heavy axe overhead at him, he rolled to the side and dashed for the back of the smaller mutant fighting Ulrich. The victim realised what was up when Ulrich's eyes snapped to look at something behind its back, but it was late parrying Wilhelm's sabre. The blade slashed deep into the creature's chest, opening up a terrible wound from the left clavicle to the right hip. The mutant's arms still tried to slash back at Wilhelm but all power seemed to leave them and the blades barely cut into Wilhelm's already tattered uniform. "I'll keep the bear busy, get your gun." Wilhelm yelled at the slightly shocked Ulrich.

Ulrich snapped out of his momentary confusion and looked around, his pistol was lying near the boulder behind which they hid before…right behind the bear man. But suddenly Ulrich had an idea, he run straight towards the mutant, at the last moment throwing his axe at the creature's head. The big mutant managed to duck out of the way, but for a couple of seconds he lost Ulrich from sight as he covered his head with one arm. When he looked around again it was Wilhelm charging at him from the other side. In those brief moments Ulrich dashed between the boulder and the creature, quickly retrieved his pistol from the ground and ripped open a powder charge from the side of his pack, quickly emptying the contents into the barrel. Still compressing the gunpowder with a plunger he located the bag of lead pellets on his belt. Using up precious moments to make sure the powder was well packed he dropped one pellet into the barrel and followed it with a small piece of rag.

"Look out!" shouted Wilhelm, Ulrich had just enough time to roll out of the way of a blow from the mutant who by now realised what happened.

As he stood up a couple meters back, the mutant looked for the first time at Ulrich's face, for a moment it stood still, looking as if it saw a ghost. Then as if it realised something the look changed to panic and anger. The mutant forgot all about Wilhelm, and strode towards Ulrich with the axe raised in both hands. Ulrich aimed the pistol and squeezed the trigger hoping the rushed loading would not be his undoing. The pistol took a fraction longer than usual to fire but fire it did. The bullet struck the mutant full in the broad forehead, the creature staggered for a second and with a last effort it brought the axe down towards Ulrich. But the young man wasn't there anymore; he had not waited to see if his shot was enough ducking to the side to avoid the giant blade. Wilhelm jumped towards the mutant and stabbed the sabre between the creature's ribs before the mutant finally collapsed to the ground and was still.


	7. Chapter 13 and 14

**Chapter Thirteen**

Ulrich stood up straight and looked around the ravine, five horribly mutated corpses lay where they fell. The creatures were clearly infected by the ruinous powers of the chaos gods, extra limbs, claws, and mutations, showing every sign of corruption from discoloured skin through boils to rotting flesh. Yet, his mind ignored most of the scene, instead concentrating on the fact that they seemed to know him, or of him at least. He assumed they were a band of robbers, one of many roaming this land, who just happened upon Ulrich's and his grandfather's lodge, but now he was not so sure anymore. Suddenly he realised something.

"One more! There was one more by the river." he snapped at Wilhelm jumping up to the edge of the ravine. But he could not see anyone else pursuing them.

"We must go back and find him!" he said quickly gathering up his belongings and preparing to set out again.

"Relax, there are plenty of them in these forests, one more will not make a difference, I've had enough for one day, it was lucky you happened to be passing that way or that would have been the end of me." replied Wilhelm still cleaning his sabre.

"There was nothing lucky about me being there, I was following them. They had killed my grandfather a couple of days ago, I will kill every single one." he paused thoughtfully. "But first I will find out why, why did they seek out my grandfather? Why did they want to kill him? Why did those two here know me?"

Wilhelm looked doubtful. "Seek out? I don't know you, and I am sorry to hear about your grandfather, but I doubt these creatures plan much. They are outcasts from mankind; I have heard of their kind, they live in the forest praying on the weak and defenceless."

"No. They." he pointed to the bear man. "The last two, recognised my face, they…hated me." Ulrich spoke slowly as if trying to understand and convince himself.

Wilhelm put the sabre in its sheath and picked up his pistol putting it behind his belt. Then looked at Ulrich again.

"These creatures are full of hate, they hated you because you are still human, I doubt they are anything more than vagabonds…"

"But they spoke Imperial." interrupted Ulrich incredulously.

"Many such creatures from the empire escape northwards hoping to have an easier life in the vast wilds of Kislev." Wilhelm raised his hand to head off Ulrich's reply.

"I do not think there is anything more to them, but I am in your debt. I'll be glad to help, let's go back and look for the last one. But first if you could spare some gunpowder I wouldn't mind loading my pistol."

Ulrich gave Wilhelm some gunpowder, noting the finely made expensive looking pistol the other man used. They both reloaded, and Ulrich loaded his rifle as well, then they headed back up the valley. Though they both tried to push hard, they were tired now and it took a quarter of an hour before they finally reached the spot from which Ulrich first saw the mutants earlier in the day. From the ridge they could not see their quarry. Only the bodies of the two mutants Ulrich had shot. They climbed down to the edge of the river, on the way making sure both mutants are dead. By the river Ulrich managed to find the tracks of the last mutant, he must have thought the better of taking part in the fight and headed for the other side of the river. However, when they crossed, they could not find his tracks again. It took them nearly two hours of walking up and down the banks of the river before they finally found his tracks, nearly a mile to the west, leaving the river and heading south through the forest.

They followed the tracks in silence; Wilhelm knew little of tracking so he left it to Ulrich. The mutant clearly had some experience hiding his tracks; he chose well-beaten paths used by animals and areas of the forest where his feet left almost no trace. With snow still melting the ground was soft, and it was not possible to hide one's tracks entirely, but he managed to make it harder for the two men to follow him and their progress was slower than his.

By nightfall, they had still not come closer to catching up with the mutant. They were clearly at least three hours behind him and the tracking was nearly impossible now, after the third time they had to double back due to a mistake in following the faint track it was Ulrich that broke the silence.

"Enough, I can no longer see the tracks and neither of us is in any shape to keep going anyway. The country ahead is much the same for a few days walk in every direction, he will not find help, and we need to rest."

Wilhelm remained silent, he knew it was a hard decision for Ulrich to make and he was impressed with the self-control and reason of the other man. During the day he had the chance to appreciate his skill with a firearm and his tracking ability. Though he himself often engaged in hunting in his southern homeland he had not the skill to follow the track of the mutant. Ulrich spoke again. "You know who I am, a simple tracker and hunter, looking for revenge on those who had wronged him. Yet I know nothing about you save your name, title and that you _belonged_ to one of the Imperial armies fighting in the north."

Ulrich said the word "belonged" with a heavier accent suggesting he would like to find out more about this. Deserters were not well respected in these parts, though they were met often enough as the harsh northern climate broke the will of many Imperial soldiers. "The pistoliers." Seeing no recognition on Ulrich's face Wilhelm continued to explain.

"The Pistoliers are a light mounted unit, we usually fight on the wings of the main army or behind the front lines hurrying the enemy supply lines. Indeed this was my task until a few days ago. You need not worry, I am no deserter. Though it was my poor leadership that led to my current predicament. If I had better control of my men they would all still live and I would not be running through the forest in this state." he paused for a bit with a pained look on his face.

"I allowed part of my regiment to charge into a trap, by the time we chased them down to turn them around it was too late. There were heavy losses, during the charge I was knocked down and my horse was killed. I was knocked out briefly, when I came to a couple hundred beastmen were separating me from the remainder of my regiment retreating in the distance. There was nothing I could do, it would be too many beastmen for my company to break through and they had seen me fall, so probably assumed I was dead anyway. I saved myself through a cowardly escape through the forest. I am not sure what is left of my company, but with the plains crawling with beastmen, I decided the only way to get back to Imperial lines was to head south east around the enemy forces and back to the west when I had cleared them. Wouldn't have made it if it weren't for your help this morning."

"How did they catch you?" asked Ulrich after a pause from Wilhelm.

"I had been walking for five, or maybe six, days. Not daring to start a fire, with no food and very little rest. It had been too much, last night I was not intending to stop by the river, I stopped to drink and rested against a rock for a second. When I came to, the mutants were already closing in around me." his face lit up a little.

"Excellent shot by the way, I would not have thought anyone could hit a target as small as a human head from two hundred paces. Where did you learn how to shoot like that?"

Ulrich looked at Wilhelm for a mo ment, and gave him a mischievous smile. "Actually I was aiming for his back, and I didn't think I could hit that either…" Wilhelm looked at him astonished; a look of outrage crossed his face.

" But, that means you could have hit me just as easily…well all is well that ends well I suppose. You gave me the break I needed and for that I will be forever grateful.

 **Chapter Fourteen**

They shared some of the dried meat and bread from Ulrich's pack. Then Ulrich took the first watch waking Wilhelm only after midnight. When he awoke again it was still dark, though the sky in the east had already taken up a dark blue hue. Wilhelm was just finishing to pack their things and was now stamping out the fire.

"Good morning friend, we can start out soon." Wilhelm said while making sure the last sparks were out.

"Take out some more food from my pack." replied Ulrich sitting up. "We have a few more moments before it is light enough to pick up the tracks again."

Soon they were back on the trail, it zigzagged through the forest picking harder ground. A couple of hours after sunrise they reached the spot where their quarry had rested for the night. There were no signs of fire, only a small area of flattened ground covered with twigs, partially concealed by fresh pine branches in a thicket of bushes.

"It's good we stopped last night; we could have easily missed him here if we tried to track with only torch light."

"Yes, but now we have all day to catch up to him, he should only be three hours ahead or so. And he seems to have given up on hiding his tracks, rather he set off directly to the south this morning." replied Wilhelm pointing at the ground where a clear trail set off away from the camp. – Is there anything there he is hoping to reach? Hills, marshes, or perhaps a thicker forest, where beastmen are known to roam?" he asked.

"No." replied Ulrich slowly, deep in thought. "The terrain can be rough but nothing worse than here, and the main beastmen herds have not crossed into our lands yet this year. There is only Moraveny, a small Grad, and a few villages, but no one will help a mutant, rather he would be killed on sight."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that." Replied Wilhelm. "He didn't look like the others, this I remember about him, he looked…if anything, like a man from the Empire, at least he was dressed like it, and no visible mutations on him."

"Then we need to hurry." Ulrich replied with some urgency. "If he finds a boat or a horse, he could get away from us quickly and I will NOT loose him."

They marched mostly in silence keeping a hard pace all day, not stopping to rest even as they ate and drunk. Ulrich spent the day wondering what a man from the Empire may have against his Grandfather. Was this simply a coincidence or was there some trouble from the old country he never knew about which followed his family out to Kislev now? He dismissed the thought, it had been many years since his Grandfather moved to Kislev, and it was unlikely he could have enemies who looked for him for 20 years and across a thousand miles. As the evening crept in on them they still had not sighted the enemy, despite their best efforts it was quickly getting too dark to follow the tracks again. When the last of the light faded the men stood on the trail, Ulrich deep in thought, Wilhelm waiting for his decision.

"We cannot follow tracks in the dark, but if we assume he is heading straight for the Grad now, we could keep heading south and either catch him on the way or cut him off in the morning." Ulrich finally said.

"If we loose him?" Asked Wilhelm. "We have to risk it, if he walks all night he will reach the Grad by noon the following day. He'll have no problem buying a horse or hiring a boat to take him downstream and then we may never catch up. I cannot let that happen, I need to know why they killed my grandfather."

The two men set off again, no longer trying to follow the tracks but now heading directly to the south. They were able to keep their direction easily navigating with the help of the stars and the two moons. They travelled in silence again, through a landscape bathed in red light from the blood moon. Here and there clearings in the forest let in more of the bloody light, looking like ancient temples to evil gods of chaos who once ruled these lands and were seeking to do so again.

At sunrise they entered a small steep sided valley, their feet plodding on step by step, mechanically. Here and there snow still clang to the deep shadows of the northern slope, but grass and spring flowers littered the bottom of the southern slope. The valley led west where, at its bottom, laid a village with some land cleared around it. Pasture run some way up the slopes and small vegetable gardens and groves of flowering fruit trees surrounded the dozen or so houses. They turned west to follow the valley, which joined onto the Shoik River valley where the Grad lay. But as they got closer to the village they could see something was not right. No smoke rose from the houses, no people or animals stirred anywhere in sight and the whole village was silent. No dogs barked as they approached.

"This is odd, maybe I was wrong about the beastmen not yet crossing into our lands this spring." said Ulrich looking into the window of one of the houses.

"No, this is not the work of the beasts. I have seen the villages they had been through, nothing would be left untouched." replied Wilhelm

"Oh, the beastmen had not been here yet, that is for sure. But the farmers left, and took everything with them, normally even when they head to the market a few of the old people and animals will stay, this is different. They must have heard of a heard of beastmen nearby, they will have gone to the Grad for protection. We don't need to worry about him getting any help here, let's get to the Grad, it is only a few hours ahead now."

Reinvigorated by the daylight and warmth, the men spoke as they headed down the valley, Wilhelm was curious to find out more about this part of the world. Ulrich explained that although the forests were teaming with danger here, the main armies of chaos rarely came this far east, even if they invaded Kislev. There was almost nothing for them here save a few small villages and trapper lodges. There wasn't enough food to feed the marching armies and there wasn't enough loot to keep them interested. Chaos armies regularly attacked the borders of Kislev, but true to their name they were not well organised. It was only the most powerful leaders that could keep a large army together and they usually marched only under the blood moon. If it waned before the army had some major successes infighting between different factions within the army usually tore them apart. The bulk of the chaos armies consisted of badly disciplined and unreliable troops. Unlike the demons of the chaos gods and the heavily armoured Chaos warriors the rest of the armies fought for loot not for their love of the gods. Beastmen tribes would stand only as long as they could see victory, if this was not forthcoming their herds would melt back into the forests. Norskan berserkers had only a limited time before they had to return to their northern lands to their families and crops waiting to be harvested. The horse riding marauders from the northern wastes were as likely to join Kislevite armies as they were to fight on the chaos side if there was a profit in it. So the chaos armies came and went like tides, sometimes their attack was longer and more ferocious than could be expected other times they suddenly melted away even though they were deep in Kislevite territory with no army capable of stopping them in sight. In other years still, the Chaos warriors and the demons of the different gods suddenly fell into disagreement, fighting each other with such ferocity that hardly any of them made it back to the north. These were the best years for Kislev because the forces of chaos would need years to rebuild their strength.

On the edge of this ocean of chaos and madness the kingdom of Kislev stood for centuries, enduring the storm. The people in Kislev were tough and disciplined when it came to war, but they also knew when it was better to withdraw and fight again another day. Unlike the Imperial wars with Tilea or Bretonnia that Wilhelm had learned of from his tutors, here in the north there were no rules, no mercy or civility. If you made a mistake here you died.

"It is strange for the beasts to come this far east." Continued his tale Ulrich. "Something must have changed their course recently."

"Praag." Said Wilhelm, his face paling a little.

"Could they have broken into the city? When I left the siege of Praag the Imperial forces were still stuck in a dug-in encampment to the south. We had no way of aiding the city and our bombardment of the enemy army seemed to make little difference to them. Perhaps it has happened then. And if the city had fallen the forces commanded by General Schwarz were in great danger themselves."

"Chaos is powerful but the walls of Praag are strong as well." Replied Ulrich. "In all the history of Kislev they had only been breached once or twice. And if this had been the case, the chaos army would be marching straight south to plunder the rich farmland around the capital and further onto Imperial lands. No, I would not think the city had fallen yet."

Their conversation was cut short as Ulrich, who was in front, suddenly came across deep tracks in the muddy soil of the road they had been walking. The tracks came from the forest and joined the road here. Ulrich bent down to examine them, they bore the same heavy iron shod boot shape they had been following for the previous two days. Their quarry had been here, but he was still ahead of them. Ulrich cursed as he stood up straight and looked towards the small hill of the Moraveny Grad visible to the west. He could make out no shape on the plain between where they stood and the town, of course it would be difficult to see someone who was that far away, but it meant they were too late to cut off their prey or to catch up with him before he reached the town.

They reached Moraveny before noon. They had a good view of the Grad from the road, which in the last stage followed the riverbank before it swung right to enter the lower town. The Grad itself was built on a low outcrop of solid rock that stuck out into the Shoik River. The fortifications were simple but looked impressive nevertheless, a massive rampart of soil and clay was built all around atop outcrop. Three wooden towers were built into it, two on the landward side, where the high town connected to the fortifications of the lower town and one more towards the river, to monitor the shipping. From the river side the drop onto the rocks below the ramparts was too steep and narrow to make any siege attempts sensible. On the landward side the ramparts were protected with additional ditches and fields of sharpened stakes. A deep moat was dug between these ramparts of the upper Grad and a second set of ramparts protecting the main settlement, which lay on the north side of the valley. The lower fortifications encompassed a much larger area below the rock outcrop. The ramparts were built in the same manner as the upper Grad though they were not as tall and had no towers built into them, save one over the main gate into the town.

"They are preparing for a siege of the grad" Ulrich said as they got closer.

"Looks like they had suffered some damage already." Wilhelm was pointing to the smouldering remains of several buildings on the outside of the town.

"No, those were wintering huts built by trappers or some of the herders. They usually stay here for the winter and head for the hills in the spring. We have visited the market a few times." He pointed out an empty square area between the smouldering ruins. "Normally most of the farmers, herders, trappers and traders would gather in and around the Grad for a spring and autumn market. But now they have burned it to clear the field of fire from the ramparts."

The town was full, people were still coming in but already the streets were filled with people, carts and livestock. Children and dogs were running all over getting underfoot. The noise was deafening after the silence of the empty valley around the town. Everywhere they looked, farmers were tending to their animals, building temporary fences against the inside of the ramparts. Others were haggling for space in the townhouses or erecting tents and shelters in the street against the walls of the buildings.

"How are we ever going to find anyone here?" asked Wilhelm

"He needs a horse or a boat. Given the coming siege, if he wants to go back south the dock is his best bet."

They headed for the dock. It was lodged on a small landing squeezed in between the Upper and the lower fortifications. As they came through the small gate leading to it they were surprised to see the landing almost empty. A few bags of grain were still on the dock, and two men were loading them onto a cart, otherwise the rest of the dock was empty. No trading ships or even small boats to be seen anywhere. Ulrich went over to the two men and exchanged a few quick words with them while Wilhelm stood back.

"We are in luck." the Kislevite said as he returned to Wilhelm.

"The last trading barges left before sunrise this morning. The commander of the city didn't want them to be used by the enemy to cross the river so they were ordered to return downriver, not that any of the traders wanted to stay." he said with a smile.

"But our luck doesn't end there, the horses had be driven across the river to pastures further south, some sold to the gathering Kislevite armies and the rest to be kept away from the enemy. Now there is no way out other than on foot. And the beastmen herd has been seen only a day's walk to the northwest. So he is stuck right here with us." Ulrich finished with a wide smile, and perhaps, more joy than the occasion called for.


	8. Chapter 15 and 16

**Chapter Fifteen**

"You are enjoying this a little more than necessary I think." Wilhelm told Ulrich as they walked through one of the crowded streets of the lower town. "We still have to find him in this swarm of farmers, townspeople, trappers and Gods only know who else, it isn't going to be easy."

"No, but we have more time, and I may be able to find some people who can help us." Ulrich replied. "First though we need to get some rest, I am barely walking. Let's find a place to lodge for a couple of days."

Several minutes later, the two young men found what they were looking for, a large tavern off a side street from the town square. It was a tall three-story building with solid walls and doors. Ulrich knew the Black Hound Inn from his occasional visits to the town with his grandfather; the place doubled up as exchange shop for fur traders as well, hence their visits.

As the two men adjusted their eyes to the gloom inside, Ulrich started to give a small introduction: "Welcome to the Black Hound Inn, not the most reputable or luxurious place in town to stay, but certainly the best place to come if you have furs to buy or sell. It's been a couple years since my last visit here but the place hasn't changed much. A few rough characters always hang around in here but so long as we keep to ourselves we should not have any trouble."

"If they have beds it's good enough for me." replied Wilhelm, then with some embarrassment added: "You know when I was riding with my unit, I didn't have too much time to collect my belongings, I don't actually have anything on me, not even a copper piece.

"Don't worry about that, I have some money with me. Let's get a room and ask if anyone else had been checking in recently."

Ulrich rested the long rifle against the bar and motioned for the barman to come closer. The barman must have been in his sixties, he was not particularly tall or muscular, but something in his stance told Ulrich he was a tough man and didn't always stand behind the bar. He recalled now that his grandfather had once told him the tavern was run by an ex mercenary from the empire.

"An unusual hunting rifle you have there young man." said the barman as he approached.

"It's an old piece, belonged to my grandfather, I am not familiar with its history it may be a dwarven piece, my grandfather often traded with the dwarves coming from the mountains. Our cabin was near one of the mountain passes they used for trade with Moraveny."

"If you'd like I can take a look at it, I have a colourful history myself, and I have seen many different makes of weapons in my time, I may be able to tell you more." replied the barman while his hands went through the automatic motions of cleaning and arranging metal tankards on the bar.

"Maybe later, we came a long way to get here and we are very tired. I'd like to get a room with a couple beds for a few days." said Ulrich, suddenly a little apprehensive about giving too much information away.

"Sure thing young sir, though I must warn you the Inn is very full on the count of the coming siege, I only have a couple of the more expensive rooms left, worth their price, private but a little more expensive. If you are short on cash though.." Here he looked at the state of clothes of both men pointedly. "…I can find a couple beds in one of the bigger bunk rooms?"

"No, we have money, and we prefer some peace to rest after the journey. We'll take the room."

"Right you are sir, peace and quiet are worth their price all right. That will be two silver pieces a day, but we'll throw in a good breakfast as well, and a couple of ales for a welcome drink." the barman smiled and turned to one of the barrels.

"Two pieces of silver is fine." said Ulrich ignoring the outraged look from Wilhelm.

"But we will take that ale this evening, after we have had some rest. One more thing my good man, can you tell me if you have had any other visitors check in recently? We are looking for a friend of ours who was supposed to reach Moraveny this very morning as well."

"Sure, what does your friend look like?" the barman inquired. Ulrich looked puzzled for a second then translated the question into Imperial for Wilhelm.

"Oh, medium built, dark brown hair with a green hunting cloak and imperial cut clothes." supplied Wilhelm.

"No, no one of that description, but I can keep an eye out, what is the name?" asked the barman looking Wilhelm straight in the eye.

"Name er, em… Hans, Hans Hofman." replied Wilhelm, annoyed with himself for not foreseeing the question ahead of time.

"Hans Hofman, ok I will keep an eye out for a Hans Hofman for you." replied the barman putting additional emphasis on the name and enjoying the slight cringe from Wilhelm each time he said it.

"Anna!" he yelled across the room.

"Show these fine gentlemen to corner room." he said switching back to Kislevite. Ulrich noted that when speaking Kislevite, the barman's accent was not unlike his Grandfather's. Despite living in Kislev for many years and speaking Kislevite fluently, Johan never lost his Imperial accent.

The barman had not been lying. The room was clean and well kept with comfortable beds, a couple of chests, and a large table. It also had a window with a good view to the street below, so if they needed to they could keep watch on the comings and goings of the tavern. Both men were asleep nearly as soon as the barmaid left the room and they had lain down on the beds.

Ulrich woke up first, he thought he heard someone moving on the other side of the door, but when he got up and checked no one was there.

"What's up?" asked Wilhelm who got up when he heard the door open.

"Nothing, I thought I heard something. It's getting dark outside." he added looking out the window.

"I think it may be time to head downstairs eat something and start searching the town tavern by tavern."

"Don't get your hopes up too much. This is a small town but he must be aware we won the fight or he would not have taken off. This means he expected to be followed and will be keeping low. We don't have much to go on other than a general description." cautioned Wilhelm.

"We could ask around for a Hans em, er, ah.. Hofman." Ulrich laughed.

"Shut up, I didn't see you coming up with anything better. By the way, I noticed the barman spoke with the same Imperial accent you have. A lot of people moved here from Hochland?"

"Never thought about it before I suppose. I did notice just now the barman has the same accent as my grandfather when speaking Kislevite, but I thought all Imperials do. Is Hochland a big place?" asked Ulrich.

"No. It is a small heavily forested province with a small population, and it doesn't border Kislev either." Wilhelm replied making clear why he thought it was unusual.

"Interesting". Ulrich replied giving it a moment of thought. "But we don't have time to track down everyone's story now. Let's start looking, few people travel through this town that are not local trappers or farmers, so even if he changes his clothes the mutant will still stick out if he speaks Imperial like the other mutants. We do have to be careful not to raise too many questions ourselves. The town watch does not take kindly to fights within the walls and they certainly do not take kindly to bodies turning up on the streets.

"We'll deal with that when we get there." replied Wilhelm putting on his boots.

"Speaking of questions, you better put this on." Ulrich threw a simple long sleeved leather shirt and linen pants at Wilhelm.

"We can get you some local boots later but for now that will help you stick out less. Also let me do all the talking, most people speak a few words of Imperial but it isn't heard very often here.

They spend several hours of the late afternoon and evening walking the streets and asking about the mutant in every inn and tavern they could find, with no luck. The streets cleared as the night set in, fewer people were walking around now. Instead of the crowds they now saw more of the city watch patrols eyeing everyone with suspicion. They were dressed in a rough approximation of a uniform, with plain shirts and pants but long blue coats worn against the chill of the night. They were armed with sabres and occasionally pistols. Wilhelm noted that unlike most towns in the Empire here the streets were not lit. The town watch carried lanterns; other travellers either used torches or got by the light from an occasional window where the occupants were still awake.

They had also tried walking the streets and asking in the taverns in the lower town, but since those were cheaper most had been full for a good few days now. The keepers invariably said they haven't seen anyone but farmers and trappers and everyone who was coming in now was either sitting in the main hall at one of the tables or sleeping anywhere there was floor space.

Finally they were ready to give up for the evening, and headed back for the empty streets of the high town. By now it was close to midnight and apart from the occasional patrol they didn't see anyone else. Just as they turned off the main town square to head down the street to the Black Hound they saw a beggar sitting against the side of the building.

"Wait." Ulrich stopped looking at the beggar. "He is wearing Imperial boots."

"And the same green cloak I had seen on the mutant." replied Wilhelm with exitment.

"Hey friend." Ulrich spoke in Kislevite. "Those are nice boots you have there."

"Mine! I found them fair and square!" replied the beggar abruptly with a slight slur caused most likely by some hefty alcohol consumption earlier in the day. His bearded face contorted in a look of drunk defiance and his hand gripping a thick wooden staff next to him.

"Relax." replied Ulrich with a consolatory tone. "I am not after the boots, in fact I have a few coins for you if you help us."

"What'ya want?" asked the beggar guardedly but relaxed his grip on the staff.

"We are looking for a friend of a friend of ours, who was wearing these clothes the last time we saw him, he had some unscrupulous people after him so we want to find him and make sure he is ok." said Ulrich dropping a couple of copper coins into the outstretched hand of the beggar.

"Right. And I am a respectable honest gentlemen." the beggar replied with heavy sarcasm after looking at the coins in his hand. "How do I know if you aren't the unscrupulous people after the kind man whose generosity resulted in me wearing these?"

Wilhelm moved towards the beggar with a grim look on his face, but Ulrich pushed him back and knelt down so his face was close to the beggars.

"All right, you got us. We aren't kindly gentlemen." he dropped a few more coppers into the hand. "But neither is the man we are looking for worthy of being a friend. This man you see behind me has travelled from the empire chasing the man we are looking for because he is a murderer and a mutant. "At the sound of the last word the beggar hissed a little and took a more careful look at Wilhelm, scanning his frame he noted the gun in his belt."

"Don't the witch hunters normally wear black?" he asked still looking with suspicion at Wilhelm.

Wilhelm couldn't follow the conversation but he saw the second lot of coins change hands and he heard the doubt in the question the beggar asked looking at him.

"Let me explain things to him properly!" he hissed to Ulrich in Imperial adding a couple of ugly expletives. Ulrich still held him back and turned back to the more frightened beggar.

"Now my friend, I am patient but you see he is not, he is traveling in plain clothes so as not to give himself away too easily to other mutants who may be lurking in town. So let's not waste time over trivialities." he said as he produced one silver coin and held it up. "Tell us where you got the clothes or my friend here will be the one asking the questions."

"I found them on the rubbish tip at the end of the shoe makers street this afternoon." The beggar looked from face to face to see if this was to their satisfaction. "Did you see anything else? Who dumped them?" insisted Ulrich. "No, no I am not lying I saw nothing else." the beggar said quickly.

"All right then, thanks for your help. And don't go talking about our little conversation here lest the mutant get's wind of the witch hunter." Ulrich threw a couple more copper coins to the beggar as he got up and turned to Wilhelm.

After explaining what he found out to Wilhelm they quickly decided there was nothing more to be done until the morning when the shoemakers shops were opened. As they turned again to walk down the street towards the Black Hound Ulrich thought he saw someone taking a quick look at them from behind the corner of the street, but when he run over to the corner there was no one there.

When they got back to the inn several people were still sitting around and drinking in small groups. Though most voices were kept down it was easy enough to pick up the general topic of conversation. Beastmen have been spotted at the edge of the forest in the afternoon. The town crier has been making announcements of a general recruitment to boost the town watch regiment. Most conversation was of the impending fight for the city.

Ulrich noticed the barman whom they had spoken to earlier was still behind the bar cleaning up after the busy day. He looked at them occasionally as they sat drinking their ale before they headed upstairs to sleep, but he said nothing more.

The next morning they were quite tired but managed to get up early. After a quick breakfast in the main hall of the inn they headed out to the shoemakers street. There they pretended to shop around for shoes for Wilhelm. To their surprise the second shoemaker they spoke to casually remarked he had sold a pair of shoes to another man from the empire the previous day and quickly produced a similar pair of shoes from one of the chests in the workshop. Equally quickly he proceeded to overcharge them for the shoes seeing their interest raised, and mistaking it for admiration of the workmanship. As Ulrich paid for the shoes he found out in casual conversation that the other Imperial man had asked him about a quiet out of the way inn or tavern to spend the next few days. The shoemaker told them he suggested a small inn called the White Barge which was at the end of the Sailors street towards the river. Since the entire fleet has left town that part of it was a little quieter then normal and it would be easier to find a room.

They proceeded to get Wilhelm some more Kislevite clothing, so he wouldn't stick out so much. Following his transformation Wilhelm and Ulrich headed towards Sailors street. They sat near a window in a tavern across the street from the White Barge, Wilhelm sat with his back to the room looking through the window keeping an eye on the small Inn while Ulrich sat opposite him facing the room. Ulrich spoke to Wilhelm at length in Kislevite, it was a long and torturously exaggerated tale of a trapping trip up slope of the nearby mountains. Wilhelm couldn't understand anything from the story but it didn't matter because it was being spun for the benefit of the other people sitting in the tavern and the occasional serving maid who checked if they need more food or drink.

They sat for several hours. Several people entered and left the small Inn across the street but they didn't see the man they were looking for. Finally they decided waiting across the street wouldn't work. The man they were looking for was clearly being careful about revealing his whereabouts. The inn provided food, drink and everything else he needed provided he could pay for it. They couldn't spend days on end sitting around and drinking without raising some suspicion. So they decided for a riskier strategy.

It was near sunset when they entered the White Barge Inn again taking up seats at one of the tables. They ordered ale and some food, though neither of them was hungry after spending the afternoon in a tavern across the street. Wilhelm sat with his back to the stairs, which led to the guestrooms upstairs, while Ulrich sat facing the room. This time they didn't have to wait long, shortly after they sat down a man came down the stairs, Ulrich could not recognise if this was the man they were looking for. But he fitted the general description and as he approached the bar he spoke in Imperial ordering food to be brought up to his room. As he did so he looked around the room at the other occupants of the inn. It wasn't a large room and he caught Ulrich's eye as he scanned the tables. A look of recognition than panic crossed his face. He turned and run up the stairs. Ulrich jumped out of the chair, Wilhelm stumbled out as well, as quickly as he could. They headed upstairs at a run, as they started to climb the barmaid screamed after them in Kislevite saying that only guests of the inn were allowed upstairs. They sped up, climbing the stairs they heard a door slam a couple floors above them. They run up until they were on the second floor of the building. Once there they could not see which door the man had closed but sounds of someone moving about in a hurry were easy to pick up from a room to their right. They run for the door, it was closed but not very sturdy and Ulrich kicked it down after a couple of attempts. The room was empty, the window open. They run to the window, which overlooked the roof of a smaller building at the back of the Inn.

"There!" pointed Wilhelm as he spotted the man running across a rooftop towards the river. They both scrambled out through the window and onto the roof to run after the man. He turned and looked at them then jumped from the roof down into a yard ahead of them.

"It's him!" shouted Wilhelm to Ulrich remembering the face he stared into a couple days earlier.

"Follow the rooftops down to the river and try to cut him off I will follow him here." Ulrich hissed to Wilhelm while running down the slope towards the edge of the roof where the mutant had just disappeared.

They had come to the inn armed and he pulled the pistol from his belt now as he prepared to jump down into the courtyard. He spotted a pile of wood not far from the roof edge he jumped down to it and slid down the side landing a bit unsteadily but keeping upright. Ten paces away the mutant was jumping over a low wall dividing the courtyard from the next. Ulrich run after him crossing small walls of several more courtyards kicking at barking dogs in some courtyards and stumbling through mud and pigs in others. After a couple of minutes he got closer to the mutant just as he was climbing over a higher wall, which divided a courtyard from another street beyond. Not knowing if Wilhelm had time to cut off their quarry Ulrich aimed and shot at the mutant just as the man was getting ready to jump down the other side of the wall. The shot hit his thigh and he went tumbling down out of Ulrich's view. Ulrich quickly scaled the wall ignoring the shouts coming from the windows of the house on his right. From the top of the wall he saw the mutant sprawled on the ground with his hands up and Wilhelm standing over him with a pistol aimed at his chest.

Ulrich jumped down, recovered his balance and approached the man they had been chasing. The man was looking at Ulrich with fear and hate at the same time. He reached into his pocket. Wilhelm shouted for him to raise his hands and pointed the pistol at his head. The mutant ignored him and quickly put something in his mouth biting down. The effect was instant, green ooze erupted from the man's mouth and his body shook violently.

"Who are you?! Why did you kill my grandfather?!" Ulrich shouted holding the shaking man by his shirt.

"Yyyou, can't… stop…stop… it." the mutant responded staring with a steel gaze into Ulrich's eye while the rest of his body shook violently. Then his eyes rolled back into his skull and his body stopped shaking.

"Who are you?!" Ulrich shouted one more time still gripping the man's shirt.

"He's dead. Check his pockets see if there is anything that will help figure out where he came from." Wilhelm urged as he looked up and down the street. "And hurry up, we don't have long before the watch come down and start asking questions."

They searched the body but found nothing but an ornate dagger, a money purse and a small metal medallion around the man's neck. Then hearing shouts up the street they left the body and run in the opposite direction. In the darkness they managed to evade any pursuit by turning a couple of times then hiding behind a pile of refuse in one of the near by streets. The guards run only a few feet from them but didn't notice. The two men quietly retraced their way to the previous street junction and walked off in another direction trying to look calm.

They returned to the Black Hound without further incident. Went upstairs to their room and looked over the items recovered from the body of the mutant leader. The dagger was of good quality and decorated, but it bore only a simple makers mark, without an indication where it came from they could spend years looking for the maker. The medallion was off a wolf head, worn commonly across the empire and even Kislev by people who worshipped Ulric, the god of war. Another symbol but less clear was on the other side of it, but the lines were so faded Ulrich could not make out what it was. The money purse was a surprise, it contained over 50 gold coins apart from several silver and copper ones, enough money to live well for a year in any city in Kisev. But it too contained no clue as to the man's identity. Ulrich and Wilhelm sat on their beds looking despondently at the items spread on the table between them, when they heard steps approaching the door of their room.

 **Chapter Sixteen**

Both men got up to lock the door but before either of them got there it flew open with a loud thud as it hit the wall. Three men stood in the corridor with pistols pointed into the room. One of the men wore the uniform of the city guards the other two were dressed in plain stained clothes and Ulrich recognised them as staff from the bar room downstairs.

"Hands up!" shouted the man in uniform. Ulrich looked over to his bed to see where his pistol was.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." another, familiar voice said, the bartender of the inn came into view behind the three men with pistols.

"We need to have a talk about your conduct while on the premises. This may not be the most respectable inn in town but it is my inn and I will not have murderers staying here."

"Now hold on there, what is this talk of murder? We are simple travellers looking for a friend of ours."

"Right, with friends like that…" the barman left it hanging.

"Turn around and put your hands behind your backs, we will finish this conversation at the city guard station." They didn't appear to have much choice, both men turned around. Wilhelm looked at Ulrich discreetly glancing at the window in front of them, but before they did anything the world went dark.

Wilhelm regained consciousness first, he had a bad headache and a large lump on back of his head, which explained what happened. He took stock of their situation; they were both sitting in some kind of basement. From the barrels of ale, bags of grain and sausages hanging from hooks all around them he reasoned that they probably never left the inn. Their legs and hands were chained to an iron solid looking ring in the wall. The room was lit up with a single oil lamp on a small table about five paces from them. The table was up against one of the walls near the corner of the room. From what Wilhelm could see that was also where the only door out of the room was but it looked like a very heavy and solid piece of work too.

"Ouch." groaned Ulrich as he too came to. "Well this doesn't look much like a city guard station to me." he added as he rubbed his head.

"Seen the inside of a lot of them then?" a voice suddenly asked from the dark side of the room opposite the door. Both men looked around to see the inn owner getting up of a stool where he had been sitting quietly till now.

"Now look here, I am an Imperial officer and detaining me, or my companions, is a serious violation of the law, even here in Kislev you will not get away with it." Wilhelm tried a new approach.

"Imperial troops can get away with a lot in Kislev, that much is true, but even here the only penalty for murder is death. So you'd better stop whining about your rights and innocence and start telling me the truth."

"Truth about what exactly?" asked Wilhelm not giving up.

"How about you start by telling me who was the man you killed tonight and why?" replied the Innkeeper with an almost polite tone of voice.

"I don't know what you are talking about, I hope you have some proof of your accusation or the judge will throw you in jail instead of us, you insult an officer!"

"Enough." the innkeeper replied quietly. "In case you haven't noticed you aren't in the city guard jail, and it won't be a judge who passes sentence here. One of my sons followed you tonight and saw you chasing a man over rooftops. The same man was found dead shortly after by the city guard. So save us some time and start talking before we need to be more persuasive." with that the innkeeper looked over to the wall where various blacksmithing tools hang.

"I think perhaps I could try to shed some light on our predicament." said Ulrich, who had no interest in being persuaded.

"Please do. I'd like to get some sleep at some point tonight." replied the Innkeeper. "My name is Ulrich, the man we were indeed chasing tonight was a mutant, and a murderer, a few days ago he and a group of other mutants attacked and killed my grandfather in our cabin to the northeast of here."

"Which village did you come from?" asked the Innkeeper

"No village, me and my grandfather lived alone in a cabin up the valley of the Shoik river at the edge of the mountains. We hunted, trapped and occasionally my grandfather would also make some simple firearms for the local villagers or to sell here in town during market day. We mostly kept to ourselves, and until the mutants came a few days ago we did ok. When they attacked I was out, I followed their tracks later."

The innkeeper was silent and looked thoughtful for a minute. Than he got up, crossed the room and picked up the oil lamp. He came over closer to the two chained men.

"What was you grandfather's name?" he asked.

"Johan."

"Where was he from?"

"Koerin, a small village in the Empire."

"Your parents?"

"I never knew them, they died when I was very young, that was the reason we moved to Kislev."

The Innkeeper straightened up abruptly and walked over to the door.

"Uve, bring me all their luggage and the bag they were going over as well! Right now!"

A muffled response came from the other side of the door, they waited a few moments during which the innkeeper never stopped looking at Ulrich. The door opened and one of the innkeeper's sons came in with their luggage and weapons.

The innkeeper unwrapped Ulrich's long rifle looking it over. His eyes widened as they came to the makers mark Ulrich had found on the stock of the rifle.

"This belonged to your grandfather?" he asked turning to Ulrich again.

"Yes."

"Did your grandfather tell you much of his past? Or anything about what to do if he should pass away?"

"All I know is that he was a simple farmer and hunter, he never talked about the past much." Ulrich paused, a look of doubt crossed his face. "Once, just once when we narrowly avoided a troll he said that if ever I was alone I should come to Moraveny and look for the Drakwald Foxes. But he never told who that was and refused to talk of it again. But what has that got to do with anything?"

"And you? What is your role in this?" asked the innkeeper who now turned to Wilhelm ignoring Ulrich's question. Wilhelm looked at Ulrich first but decided it was time to tell the truth this time.

"Wilhelm Von Saltz, lieutenant of the fifth regiment of Averland Pistoliers in the service of the Emperor, I was separated from my unit in the north and fled through the forest to the south. Ulrich here gave me a break when the same group of mutants he spoke of surrounded me. So I took it upon myself to help him avenge his grandfather's death. But I was telling the truth when I said we didn't kill anyone, well not the last mutant anyway, he took some kind of poison."

"Did he tell you who he was before he died?" the Innkeeper was now looking over the items they took from the mutant.

"No, all he said was that we couldn't stop it, never said what it was that we couldn't stop."

"I have some idea, but first I must apologise, you can never be too careful and you two weren't exactly discreet about your activities in town. My son will open up the shackles now. You're both free to go, but first I have to tell Ulrich more about his grandfather, Wilhelm you can wait outside."

"No, he has helped me greatly so far and he can hear whatever you have to say to me." protested Ulrich as the innkeeper's son unlocked the chains behind his back. A few minutes later they were sitting in a much more comfortable room, which was part of the private rooms, the innkeeper and his family lived in at the back of the Inn. The room was quite small, with a square table and benches around it. The walls were decorated with weapons and hunting trophies, and must have been of solid construction because once they entered they could no longer hear any sound from the outside.

"This is where I do all my more private business negotiations." explained the innkeeper noticing the two men looking around.

"Where do I start?" the Innkeeper asked as one of his sons brought in some ale and food left over from the evening's dinner.

"Your name perhaps?" suggested Ulrich.

"Ahh, do forgive me. In all the mess I forgot to introduce myself my name is Andreas like your grandfather also from Koerin."

"I am, one of the Drakwald Foxes, as was Johan. The Drakwald Foxes were a secret regiment of sharpshooters equipped by and answering only to the Baron of Koerin. Koerin by the way is no village but a small castle, and town in Hochland, the seat of the Barony of Koerin. It isn't the biggest or most powerful Barony in the Empire or even Hochland for that matter. But it lies on a trade and transport route and is of some military importance. The castle is small but strong and the Baron was always well respected among his peers. But, I am getting off track." Andreas paused to take a sip of ale.

"You Ulrich, are the direct descendant of Baron Konrad Von Koerin whom I served. At this point Wilhelm whistled quietly, clearly impressed with the title. "Well, well the simple trapper turns out to be a Baron." he commented.

"What is this nonsense? My grandfather was no Baron." stated Ulrich incredulously.

"Yes and no, that is Johan indeed was no Baron, but Johan was not your real Grandfather, not by blood anyway." he raised his hand to head off another interruption from Ulrich.

"Your mother was killed shortly after you were born in an ambush by bandits. Your grandfather suspected the attack was no mere highway robbery. But he didn't know who was behind it so he turned to those he could trust: the Drakwald Foxes. We were not a normal uniformed regiment, nor did we officially exist or operate in the normal ways. Your Grandfahter had formed the regiment in secret to deal with mutants, chaos cultists and highway robbers. The Koerin Barony is nearly all forest, it is constantly in danger from beastmen and mutants. Even some townspeople too bear the taint of chaos. Regular units were ineffective against these dangers, the enemy was always warned first and gone by the time we showed up. Your grandfather then had an idea to form a new type of regiment. We did not wear a uniform; rather we wore plain drab clothing, which would fade into the forest well. We didn't use roads; we stayed in the forest for weeks at a time. Travelling quietly, stalking our prey. When we found a camp of mutants or highwaymen we wiped them out, we didn't arrest anyone or take prisoners. Our orders were always to wipe the enemy out to the last man. It worked well. For a while we gained the upper hand. Until the incident, that is. After that your grandfather lost interest in the affairs of the state, he could not figure out who stood behind your mother's death. He was afraid you were also a target as the marriage of his son and your mother was not popular in some circles. Your father was away at the time, so your grandfather made it look like you were kidnapped in the attack."

Andreas took another sip of ale, looking at the two men. Neither Ulrich nor Wilhelm felt inclined to interrupt this outlandish story. Andreas took one more sip and continued.

"He ordered us to take you somewhere safe from the court's intrigue and await orders to come back only when it was considered safe. The Foxes have spread out in the Barony keeping their ears to the ground. Only a few of us travelled further out taking you with us. Kislev seemed like the furthest possible place, and one where imperial spies would have much difficulty finding anyone. But…" he paused.

"It seems that it wasn't far enough. Take a look at the face on the silver coins the mutant had in his bag." Andreas put down several of the coins on the table.

"It's you. How did we miss that?" Stated Wilhelm to Ulrich in amazement as he looked at the coin.

"Your grandfather to be more precise, your features are very much in line with the family…" supplied Andreas.

"Wait, if this is true and you recognized his features than why did you still give us a bang on the head?!" Wilhelm burst out looking miffed and rubbing the back of his head to reinforce his point.

"Well..." Andreas managed to look a little embarrassed.

"The Baron had a brother and many cousins they had sons, there are plenty of Ulrich's cousins out there who would be happy to step in to inherit the Barony, I needed to be sure whom I am dealing with. Now, as I was saying, these coins were minted in Koerin. The barony has a right to mint silver coins from a local mine, but the deposit is small and it does not mint many of them, they are used almost exclusively to pay the local servants and any bills the Barony has to settle. It is very unlikely that someone would have several of them in his purse unless they came from or through the Barony. I believe these men somehow found out about your whereabouts and were sent out to kill you."

"No." Ulrich said quietly.

"No?" Asked Andreas, surprised Ulrich had anything to add to the story.

"No, I do not think they were sent to kill me. Your story makes sense, but the mutants were not expecting me. They killed my grandfather and left the hut, they could have waited around and finished me off too. Later when we fought them, they seemed surprised, almost outraged when they recognised my face." Replied Ulrich

"Hmm, if you are right than this may be to our advantage. Perhaps whoever sent them had found out about our existence, but not yours, and was just cleaning up odd ends. This means we still have a chance to take them by surprise. But we are going to have to be quick, and we are going to have to change the plan."

"Hang on a little. What plan? What are talking about?" asked Ulrich.

"The Baron did not mean for you to hide forever. He wanted you to take your rightful place when it was safe to return. Though, as the years passed we assumed he never figured out who wanted you dead. The mutants are not here by accident though, their arrival means something has changed in the Barony. I am afraid the most likely possibility is that the old Baron is dead or someone has gained access to his personal papers and he is in danger. We must make our way over to the Barony and reclaim your rightful place. We were were disconnected from the rest of the Foxes for safety reasons so that they could stay and keep an eye on the affairs in the Barony, they can not contact us but will help when we contact them."

A knock on the door interrupted them.

"Come in." called out Andreas, one of his sons came in to the room and whispered something to him.

"Well, it seems that any plans of going to Koerin will have to wait. The sentries on the walls have just reported that beastmen are coming out of the forest all along the town walls, I'm afraid it looks like no one will be going anywhere for a while. Go and have some rest now. When the attack begins the city guard will demand help from anyone who can stand and hold a sword."


	9. Chapter 17 and 18

**Chapter Seventeen**

The next morning Ulrich woke up early despite the late night. By the sound of the footsteps in the corridor he guessed the same applied to many of the other guests of the inn. Wilhelm had already gone out of the room. Ulrich got dressed quickly and came down the stairs to the main room of the inn.

"Good morning!" Wilhelm called out, sitting at one of the tables by the bar. "Good morning." replied Ulrich coming over to sit at the table, and looking at the other man sitting there.

"Uve right? Weren't you the one who gave us a knock on the heads?" The man dressed in city guard uniformed looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Yes, sorry about that, just doing what pop asked me to do."

"Never mind, just pay for breakfast and we'll be even." Ulrich didn't feel like holding a grudge.

"Breakfast is on the house, so is your stay in the Inn for that matter. Pop said you were not to be charged for anything and treated with respect. You are an important man he said." Uve continued even as he raised his hand and motioned for one of the barmaids to bring food for Ulrich.

"Nice of him. Though it isn't necessary. But what's the situation on the walls?" asked Ulrich looking around the room where almost all of the guests were already finishing their food and many of them looked like they were getting armed.

"The beastmen have camped on the edge of the forest but it is quiet for now, the Commander of the Grad has issued a proclamation that any man between sixteen and sixty should arm himself and be prepared to fight. The city guard, that would be me and fifty other soldiers, are in charge of making sure this is followed on pain of death. Not that we have a lot of work, in this part of the country everyone knows that any breach of the walls by the beastmen will mean death, and that too may not be the worst possibility."

"How big is the garrison raised by the town so far?" asked Wilhelm out of professional interest. "More than six hundred men have already volunteered before the proclamation. They will be the first line of defence on the walls. The rest who join up now after the proclamation, maybe another four or five hundred will be given secondary roles, mainly resupply and support where there is a danger of breach." explained Uve.

"How many beastmen have the sentries counted?" This time it was Ulrich asking.

"A thousand or two at least, but many more are camping out in the forest. Mostly Ungors so far, so at least we can thank Ursa for that." finished Uve.

"The little ones with straight goat horns, smaller than people." Ulrich explained for the benefit of Wilhelm, who was unfamiliar with the names.

"Right, we run into them a couple of times out on the plains. Well as an officer of the Imperial Army I suppose I should be in the front line when the attack starts, most of the men here look like they are trappers not soldiers."

"They are." said Uve. "But being a trapper in Kislev is pretty good preparation for war." he added with a smile.

"I think I will be more use with my rifle than in hand to hand combat, any place I can set up with a good view of the of the approach to the walls?" asked Ulrich.

"One of the towers will be best I think. You can head straight over when we finish eating. They won't ask too many questions when they see your rifle." replied Uve as he started to get up.

"Well gentlemen I have to get going now I have orders to be on the wall by the main gate soon. I hope we all have a chance to drink a tankard or two together some time tonight. Good luck out there and keep your heads down."

"Good luck to you too." replied both Ulrich and Wilhelm. Both men sat in silence for a while finishing breakfast. Then they headed upstairs to prepare for the fighting which, they were told, was likely to erupt at some point later in the day.

Outside the inn the streets were full of people rushing in all directions, armed men, and in some cases women as well, were generally heading down the street towards the town walls. Many of the children and the elderly were now moving to the high town where they would be safest in case of a wall breach. Both Wilhelm and Ulrich were impressed by how little direction the town folk needed to prepare for the fighting. No instructions were being given, yet the owners of houses were already dousing the wooden shingles that covered most buildings with water. Loose hay and straw was collected or moved away from building walls to avoid it starting a fire. Buckets and barrels were being filled with water and arranged outside each building in case they were needed; clearly this was not the first siege the town had been through.

Ulrich headed out alone for the eastern tower of the high town, it was the only part of the high town fortifications that did not have the additional protection of either the river or the low town walls. The tower overlooked the main town gate, which was sure to see heavy action in the attack. The main gate was also where both Uve, and Wilhelm who chose to join him, would be stationed for the day and Ulrich thought he might be able to keep an eye on his friend from the high vantage point.

To get to the tower Ulrich had to pass through a couple of guard posts, first at the stairs to the rampart then again at the door to the tower itself. But Uve was right; a quick glance at the long rifle was all the explanation the guards needed to let Ulrich pass. The square tower was a very heavy structure built out of oak bales two feet thick held together with heavy steel fastenings. Only a few small widows lit up the inside so Ulrich had to pause his ascent for a few moments until his eyes adjusted to the gloom. He climbed several flights of steep steps until he reached a bright chamber at the top of the tower. Here all four walls were lined with windows, these were wider on the inside than on the outside where they tapered so much as to only allow a firearm or bow to be fired through.

Several men were already in the chamber; most of them wore no uniforms save for an armband with the green and red colours of Moraveny. Two men wore the full uniform of the town garrison and one of them was clearly in charge issuing quick sharp orders. Ulrich approached the man who was not very tall and of the darker skin tone typical of one of the Ungol tribes, he were a fur lined leather cap on his head and a thick black moustache made it difficult to work out his exact age.

"I came to see if my rifle would be of any use up here?" Ulrich offered.

"A rifle always, had much practice using it? - asked the man.

"With this I can hit a man from two hundred paces." Ulrich replied proudly.

"Oh sure you can, but will he be the man you aimed for?" answered the soldier with heavy sarcasm. But he did point to a window.

"That one is yours, we have some spare rifles the lads…" here he pointed to three boys who were sitting in a circle nearby. "…will be loading them up so you and the other marksmen can concentrate on the shooting. You'd better be good though or you'll end up loading riles as well." Ulrich didn't detect any traces of sarcasm or joke in that last statement. Clearly the soldier was not to be messed with.

"My name is Ulrich by the way." he offered to the soldier.

"My name is Sergeant Kulig, and you are marksmen number six for the rest of the day. Do good and I'll make an effort to remember your funny southern name tomorrow, if there is one. What's a Kislevite doing with a name like that anyway?"

"I was raised right here not far from the grad, by the mountains, but my family migrated north from the Empire a while back." Ulrich replied while taking a look through his window.

The city gate was at most one hundred and fifty meters away so most of his shots would be shorter than that. The tower was well in position to fire at troops on approach to the city gate, and if they needed to support the ramparts directly below they could open up trapdoors in the floor, which overlooked them. Ulrich sat down and peering through the window started to prepare more gunpowder charges for later. Outside the sun was still rising in the perfectly blue sky, birds were singing and the air was brisk but getting warmer.

Wilhelm stood on top of the rampart over the town gate. It was a solid and wide earthen construction; the top was fringed with a solid oak-wood stockade to protect the defenders from enemy missiles. Wilhelm observed as the enemy lines moved around the town towards the gate. The defenders were certainly outnumbered and they lacked powder weapons in his view, but the attackers didn't appear to have any heavy weapons or siege engines either. As they finally stood across the field from the town gate Wilhelm asked Uve. "Do the beastmen not have archers or siege engines?"

"No, they use no missile weapons; they are too bloodthirsty for that. They want to see and taste the blood and fear of the enemy they kill."

"So they will attack only by sheer force and with hand weapons?" Wilhelm asked with an edge of relief tingeing his voice.

"Yes they will, but it isn't as much of an advantage for us as you would think. They love the fight, the more blood and killing there is the more they will be worked up for the fight. Their strategy is simple, they want to break the defence in their first charge and end the day feasting on our flesh in the remains of the city."

"What will they do when they fail?" asked Wilhelm

"Ah, optimism, I like it. If they do fail in the first attack they will likely try to construct a few crude siege towers and rams. After the first attack they will have plenty off fodder for the herd for a few days so they will use it to their advantage, trying to starve or burn the city down. Possibly trying to bring in more beastmen from other herds, or if we are really unlucky daemons or chaos warriors. Forsaken men who were gifted with great strength by the chaos gods and completely fused into a living armour."

"So what you are saying is should we survive the first wave it is just to witness the siege getting worse?"

"More or less. But isn't that always the case with a siege?" Uve smiled at Wilhelm, then as he looked at Wilhelm's face he added: "I wouldn't worry too much, it won't help any. This town has survived the marauding beastmen hordes before though, when Archaon passed through Kislev into the Empire, and it will survive now. …and if it doesn't it won't be because of a lack of fighting spirit."

"I'd rather it survived, not much joy in being a dead hero."

Wilhelm looked around; apart from the other town guards from Uve's unit there was a motley crew of other soldiers on the rampart. Some wearing the town colours and armed in a slightly more regular fashion, others with no armour of any sort and only the weapons a trapper would have in the forest. A lot of spears and bows formed the bulk of their armament, though a few crossbows, and here and there, a firearm as well, were present. All of the soldiers also had edged weapons, swords, sabres cleavers or ordinary wood cutting axes in some cases; no one expected the fighting to stay clean and at the length of a spear for long. Wilhelm had never fought with a more motley group of soldiers even though he served with militias in his home province several times. Yet, looking around he saw that these people were not new to fighting, they looked like they spent their entire life doing it and this was just another day and place where they would fight. There was no impatience for the fight as he had often witnessed with inexperienced soldiers. The people around him didn't welcome the fight nor did they run from it, it was simply something that would happen and they took it with stoicism.

It was noon before they heard the sound of many horns start up from the beastmen lines. The day had warmed up, the sky remained a perfect shade of azure and if it wasn't for the slaughter about to begin below you could say it was going to be a good day. In their high loft the marksmen watched as the line of beastmen beyond town rolled out from the trees. Much of the brown mass marched around the eastern flank of the rampart towards the gate of the low town. It was several minutes before the beastmen lines were in position. No shot had yet been fired from the town, whose defenders were armed with nothing heavier than a long hunting rifle. From his position Ulrich could now see the enemy ranks more clearly. Most of the herd was composed of Ungors, the simplest and most numerous fighters of any Beastman herd. Here and there he could see a group of bigger beastmen with long ram horns, these were Gors, the core of beastmen herds, they were bigger and tougher than most human men and Ulrich had yet to see one close up, for they were rarely captured alive. Opposite the town gate several chariots stood in the front rank of the enemy army. Pulled by giant boars, easily as big as a sturdy horse, the crews were composed mostly of Gors outfitted in armour, which among the beastmen was a rarity. Here and there the occupant of a chariot was a beast even bigger than the others. These must have been Beastigors, the elite troops from which rulers of the beastmen herds rose up, Ulrich had only heard of them. Trophy poles decorated each chariot, on top of them fresh skulls and long black ribbons which flattered lazily in the warm air. One of the chariots moved forwards slowly, a long deep note sounded from a single enemy horn blower. The large boars pulling it trotted forward, impatiently twitching under the harness but not daring to disobey the chariot driver. Behind the driver in the middle of the chariot platform stood the biggest Bestigor of all. Even without the massive horns he must have been at least seven feet tall. He wore black chainmail with additional armour plating on the chest and shoulders. He carried no shield, only a two-handed axe with a blade that rivalled and executioner's axe in size.

"Beastigors." Sergeant Kulig spat the word out behind Ulrich.

"This is as close as you ever want to get one lads, mark my words. Terrible beasts, can rip a man in two with their bare hands. The head of a ram, but the fangs of tiger too."

"Is he moving forward to parley?" asked Ulrich, unsure of the customs of the beastmen.

"Parley? No. These are not men; even the Dolgans sometimes offer to stay their hand for a price but not the beastmen. He will offer only insults and threats to cower the defenders." the sergeant spoke every word with loathing, then, turning to the rest of the marksmen, he spoke up.

"A silver piece for anyone who can hit the damned beast!"

The men who were watching the spectacle below with awe snapped out of their silence and livened up. All kneeled in position to take shot at the chariot, several confidently stated the coin was already theirs.

A salvo of rifle fire shook the tower and a plume of acrid grey smoke obscured the view for a moment. When the breeze cleared the view again the Beastigor stood unharmed in his chariot but turned to face the tower shaking the axe high in the air and shouting some kind of insult in the dark tongue of the beastmen. His army responded and a general cacophony of outraged roars and words rose from the ranks of the foul creatures. Ulrich was still at his window, he was laying down remembering the heavy recoil of the rifle he was using, unlike the other men he had not fired in the general barrage, preferring instead to take aim slowly, slowing his breath down first as Johan had taught him.

"What's wrong boy?! Hands shaking too much to take a shot?" jeered one of the other marksmen at him, while the rest burst into chuckles behind the man's back.

"A fool wastes too bullets where one will do, my grandfather used to say." replied Ulrich not moving or taking his eye from the target.

The man who had just spoken went a little red in the face but didn't have time to reply as Ulrich finally squeezed the trigger. Ulrich couldn't see the target for a couple of seconds as the smoke drifted off in the wind, but he could hear a gasp from the other marksmen as they all looked back to their windows to see if the young upstart had more to him than just talk.

Wilhelm was studying the enormous beastman occupant of the single chariot, which was getting closer to the walls, finally it stopped and the beast in it shouted something in a crude and harsh tongue towards the city walls.

"What is he saying? Can you understand?" Wilhelm asked Uve.

"He is offering us terms of surrender" replied an older man on Wilhelm's left.

"What terms?" Wilhelm asked.

"He says if we open the gates now they will kill and eat us quickly without much torture."

Wilhelm didn't ask any more questions as the shouts continued for a moment or two from the beast. Then he thought he saw several clumps of dirt pick up into the air and the thunder of gunfire followed them soon after from a tower to their right side.

"That will shut him up." Wilhelm cheered up a little. "Or not." he added as the beast turned towards the tower and exploded with even more obscene sounding shouts and insults.

"I think Ulrich went to that tower, he said he wants to have a good vantage point on the gate." Wilhelm pointed out to Uve.

Then, a puff of red mist suddenly erupted from the beast's back and he lurched back and fell off the chariot. There was a fraction of a second of silence before the sound of the gunfire reached them and the herd of beastmen exploded in an uproar. Wilhelm and the others heard them yelling after the first barrage of gunfire but now the sound of their outrage came like a physical tangible wave of thunder at them.

By the time the smoke cleared Ulrich could also hear the uproar from the enemy army below rise to an even higher pitch of fury. Row upon row of the horned creatures realised what happened and their fury at the insult shattered any discipline they still had. Even as their leader lay fallen next to his chariot, bleeding out from a chest wound, the multitude of beastmen surged forward. Some of the heavy chariots did not budge from where they stood as black rocks against the tide, causing ripples in the advancing horde. The Beastigors shouted furiously at the masses charging past them, they blew their horns to stop the attack but it was to no avail. The flood was fast approaching the ramparts. Here and there a puff of smoke erupted from the palisade on top of them but mostly arrows from bows and crossbows peppered the rising tide of chaos creatures.

"Well, I'd never seen a shot like that yet. He sure showed you Vlad!"

"Aye, it seems I picked the wrong boy to make a joke off." the man who had been teasing Ulrich just moments earlier admitted earnestly." I will gladly buy a round of ale for someone who shoots like that…even if he is just a boy." he added with a smirk.

"Alright everyone! A good show that was, but now the defenders on the wall are about to be slammed hard and we need to get them all the help they need so move! Make every shot count, aim for places where the beastmen are thickest or defenders thinnest." Kulig was issuing orders to get his soldiers firing again. "And You!" He turned to Ulrich with an angry expression.

"You just keep shooting like that, take down any bloody Beastigors you can hit before they retreat or bring order to the herd again." he finished off with a smile.

"Emm, would that have been Ulrich's doing?" asked Uve.

"He's the best marksman I know, so I think it is safe to assume so." replied Wilhelm with pride.

"IF we survive this, remind me to thank him for that." Uve said this with badly disguised sarcasm.

"Oh, blast." was the only response Wilhelm had at this point as he saw the massive furious wall of beastmen flowing towards them at a pace he had never seen infantry move at before. The men to his left and right drew their bows and got some arrows ready for the incoming tide. As the angry dark wall approached the archers started to let loose, there was no command, each man fired when he was ready. Despite this Wilhelm was impressed, these men were not military archers who shoot at an enemy unit assuming they will hit something. These men were trappers and hunters, each arrow had a target, and most arrows reached and downed their targets. In this first rain of missiles hundreds of the horned beats fell, but the wave continued without so much as slowing down. Wilhelm pulled out a pistol with his free hand while he held the spear he was given in the other. The dark creatures got closer. Wilhelm could see now most of them were not very impressive as individuals, these were the same creatures his unit charged into a few days earlier when they were leaving the Imperial camp. But he didn't feel very confident, it wasn't the size or strength of these beasts that would win or loose this battle, it was sheer numbers and blood thirst. After what seemed like a heartbeat and an age at the same time the beastmen were finally at the bottom of the rampart. They didn't have a lot of ladders but the sheer impact and fury drove them up the steep side of the fortification. Even as the defenders shot arrow after arrow into the swirling mass below, the creatures climbed higher and higher, their sharp goat like trotters found purchase in places a human foot would not.

The marksmen worked methodically, each taking a loaded rifle from one of the loading lads, aiming, firing, and taking another. There was no more time to celebrate the good shots or scold at the poor ones. The group of boys sitting in the centre of the floor and reloading the rifles in particular kept busy. Occasionally the even barrage would be broken by a litany of curses as one or more of the hastily reloaded rifles failed to fire. Ulrich didn't pay much attention to the other men, nor did he accept any reloaded rifles from the boys. He used and reloaded his rifle by himself taking time for each shot. At first Seargant Kulig was not looking pleased at Ulrich's refusal to let go of his rifle or to fire another one, but as he curiously peered out the window at the results of Ulrich's methodical blasts he stopped looking displeased. Ulrich didn't know how many times he shot nor did he try to keep track of how many targets he hit. But he started off by wounding at least three more of the big set Beastigors and killing a couple as well. Under the pressure of the rifle fire from the tower the Chariots soon pulled back out of range along the ramparts, from there their attempts to call back their troops from the back of the lines were even less successful.

The carnage was terrible Wilhelm had never seen a massed attack like this from close up, the defenders tried to shoot at the biggest clumps of the enemy climbing the wall, with each round of fire a clearing would open up, but the next wave would close over it in seconds and rise even higher on the bodies of the fallen. Wilhelm fired his pistol into the face of one enemy, sending him dropping back down, but barely had time to draw and fire the spare pistol he borrowed from Ulrich before another horned head replaced the fallen enemy. He pushed the pistol back into the back of his belt and aimed the spear just in time to skewer another creature already reaching the crest of the rampart. As he shoved the enemy back and off his spear Wilhelm glanced along the rampart, several creatures were already on the ramparts climbing in through gaps between defenders, all along the walls fighting was close and fierce. Where before it was only the beastmen who were falling, now, as hand-to-hand fighting started, casualties mounted on the human side as well. His spear broke as he tried to shake off another one of the horned creatures he managed to skewer. He pulled out the sabre and slashed at the next enemy who came at him. The town guard soldiers were getting pushed back into a clump near Wilhelm, as the fighting got more desperate he dearly wished he hadn't left his cuirass when he was running away from the enemy a few days earlier. All he could get for the fight was an ill fitting and worn out chainmail vest which could only protect him from some of the crude weapons the enemy had. Many of the horned beasts had primitive stone or bone axes and clubs, but it would only take one lucky stab from a rusty spear as were seen here and there to bring Wilhelm down. The other defenders remaining around Wilhelm were the relatively well-armed town guard and wore better armour, but even they were loosing ground. Wilhelm kept slashing and stabbing, occasionally aware of Uve or one of the other guards close by. But he knew they could not win this, with enemy breaking through in several places they didn't even have a way to retreat to the higher upper town ramparts. Finally their group was cut off on both sides completely, rather than defending the wall they were now bunched into a circle with enemies pushing them from three sides and a sheer drop on the remaining side towards the town street below. Uve went down from a club blow to the head and suddenly Wilhelm was separated on his own with three beastmen around him. He prepared himself for what he knew must come next when a hail of bullets, from Ulrich's tower, peppered the rampart around him and the other remaining guards. It wasn't much, it wasn't enough, but for a brief moment the beastmen were distracted as one of two of them fell with no clear cause they could understand. The noise of the gunfire would never have been audible over the noise of the fighting all around, but Wilhelm did not wait for it. He stabbed the tip of the sabre roughly into the throat of a beastmen to his left and without waiting to see the result slashed as hard as he could to the right. He caught the next beastmen in the chest under his right arm that was bearing down to strike Wilhelm with an axe. The sabre slid in easily between the ribs but bent and snapped out of Wilhelm's hand as the creature slumped to the ground. Wilhelm turned again but he was too late to attack the last beastmen. The creature smashed into the right side of Wilhelm's chest with a wooden club just as he turned to face it. Before the pain debilitated him Wilhelm managed to kick at the side of the creature pushing it head first over the inside edge of the rampart where it fell and smashed head first into the street. Wilhelm grappled for his sabre with his left hand and stood up shakily, he knew he had no more fight left in him, he couldn't even lift his right hand. The pain in his side was making it difficult to think and black spots were swirling in his view. But as he stood waiting for the next enemy to cut him down more shot peppered the rampart. Wilhelm could see more beastmen fall even as he himself lost grip on the world and slumped into unconsciousness.

 **Chapter Eighteen**

"..eel be alright." a voice drifted into Wilhelm's consciousness. A flood of pain followed it closely.

"Ah, he seems to be coming to. Bring some water and food." it was the voice of Andreas, the barman.

Wilhelm opened his eyes. He was on the bed in his room in the tavern. Someone had just left the room. He tried to sit up but too suddenly and the view got hazy again. He relaxed for a few moments.

"What happened? Is Uve alright?" He asked Andreas as he came into focus.

"Yes, though he has a cracked skull. You were both lucky today. Reinforcements from the high town with help from the marksmen in the tower managed to recapture your segment of the rampart before it was completely overrun.

"Did we win?" Asked Wilhelm confused.

"No, of course not. But for now, sort off. When the fragment of the rampart over the gate was recaptured the attack around it lost impetus. The reinforcements were able to fire into combat on the adjoining fragments of the ramparts and several other sections were stabilised. After that the attack faltered section by section and the beastmen retreated. They may have lost a third of their herd today. But our losses were heavy too."

"Won't they attack again as soon as they regroup?" Asked Wilhelm slowly sitting up on the bed and looking out the window where the sun was just setting.

"Yes, but that will take a few hours. Beastmen don't know ranks, they lost their leader and the remaining Beastigors will fight for the leadership of the herd before they do anything else."

Wilhelm was checking his right shoulder and ribs with the left hand. His shoulder was swollen and bruised, the arm was too weak to lift, though it did have feeling and he could move his fingers. Bolts of pain shot up and down his ribcage every time he inhaled.

"Ulrich?" he inquired of Andreas.

"He was here earlier, made sure you were ok, now he is having dinner downstairs with some of the marksmen he was helping out earlier. The story of his shot hitting the enemy leader has gotten around town quickly. He won't be paying for any ale tonight, I'll tell you that."

"Did you mention food to someone when I was coming around or was that part of the dream?" asked Wilhelm.

"My daughter Anna will bring some up soon. You'd better rest after that, it will be some time before you heal."

The sky outside the window was barely beginning to grey when Wilhelm was woken up again. One of the town guards came to bring him and Ulrich before the town Mayor who heard about their role in the first day of the siege, and was curious to meet them. They dressed quickly, Ulrich helped Wilhelm who was having a difficult time with his bruised ribs and shoulder. Wilhelm insisted on putting on his full uniform but opted against putting on the chainmail vest. He felt that the ill fitting and damaged piece would not add to his appearance during the audience.

By the time they left the inn the first rays of the sun were visible in the east. The day was already getting longer and the sun came up early. In the streets the peasant families who didn't find shelter in the buildings were already going about the business of preparing breakfast in their various ramshackle shelters made of tent cloth, planks and whatever else was available. Occasionally they passed a group of town guards or militiamen already armed and heading out to their posts on the walls. The centre of the activity was at the top of the hill in the town square where guards and soldiers were assembled more or less in ranks and awaiting orders.

The guard who brought Ulrich and Wilhelm here motioned for them to move towards the small, two stories high, stone building in the middle of the square. It was small for a town hall in Wilhelm's mind, but the guard explained the mayor doesn't have much work for most of the year. He was picked from amongst the most important merchants in town and most of the year his official role boiled down to overseeing the three or four accountants who managed the town guard finances and the tax collection.

They entered the building and walked straight past the guards and a clerk at a desk downstairs climbing up the stairs to a small landing. There another clerk motioned for them to stop while he furiously wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it over to a waiting militiaman. Once he finished writing he got up and walked over to a wooden door on the east side of the landing, knocked and entered the room. After a moment he came outside and asked them to come in, while he sat back down to his desk and got on with writing out instructions for the next man waiting by the desk in town guard uniform.

"Come in! Come in! Take a seat." The voice was of a middle-aged man of average height and build. His clothes were of good make, but plain, and other than a heavy steel chain with a town crest on a medallion, nothing in the appearance of the man looked very official or mayor like. Wilhelm was quite surprised, he had met many merchants and a few Mayors back home, nearly all of them took pains to try and impress an air of authority with their outfits.

"You look disappointed? Perhaps you were expecting someone dressed in furs and gold? This is a small town at the edge of the wild gentlemen; we have little time for decorations and pomp." the Mayor said as he looked down at a map of the city and an array of notes on the table in front of him.

"It is a pleasant surprise to see someone who appears to be taking the business of the city more seriously than that of his appearance, as is more customary where I come from, sir." Wilhelm said with a nod of the head.

"Right gentlemen, my name is Herman, I am really just a grain merchant, but have also been elected to be the Mayor for a couple of years now. You need not address me as "sir" I am not of noble birth, my father was a miller, I saw the value of moving up the chain of supply as it were. It brought me much wealth though not much respect from the nobles."

"Wilhelm Von Saltz, lieutenant of the fifth regiment of Averland pistoliers." Wilhelm introduced himself.

"Though at the moment I am most likely presumed dead by my commander as I was trapped behind enemy lines, and have most recently arrived here in your fine city with the help of my friend Ulrich whom is the expert marksmen you must have heard off by now."

Hearing this the mayor glanced at Ulrich with an appraising look, clearly he did hear and it was the reason they were invited.

"The city is much obliged to both of you gentlemen" The mayor said as he turned to look out the window. "The last stand of the heroic Imperial officer was also noted by and good motivation for most of the soldiers. Normally they consider themselves to be tougher than the imperials."

"And that wonderful shot which destroyed the beastmen leader, apart from nearly destroying the city as well, has provided us with enough confusion in the enemy ranks to withdraw overnight to the high town." He finished pointing to a small plume of smoke starting to rise over a building in the low town. Wilhelm jumped up towards the window, his face covered with worry. The Mayor though did not seem worried at all. After looking at the smoke getting thicker he pointed to a couple more columns rising from other parts of the low town. Then he sat down and motioned Wilhelm to do the same.

"Here in Kislev we value people above property. Trying to hold the whole town would cost us too many lives, lives we simply do not have. As is, our losses yesterday were heavy. During the night people and animals were moved into the high town, you must have noticed how much more crowded the streets are today. The town has a good location on a minor but regular trade route so it will rebuild, but we could never replace the population of the surrounding villages if the enemy broke through the walls and slaughtered those in the low town.

"Are the beastmen burning the city or are your men doing it?" Asked Wilhelm with curiosity.

"Our men. We prepared piles of dry wood in some streets and smeared pitch on walls. Scouts were left in the city to burn it when the beastmen break in. With any luck most of our scouts will get out unharmed across the roofs and many of the beastmen down in the tight streets will die. Alas, even with the shorter line of walls to defend we are very much under armed for the siege. I have done what I could with the meagre funds left by my predecessors in the city vault, but it was all I could do to equip the city guard properly. Without artillery almost every beastmen charge will end with hand-to-hand fighting on the walls. Which is another reason why I asked to see you lieutenant, does the Imperial army have any forces we could call on near enough to assist us within a week?"

Wilhelm looked downcast knowing he did not have any good news to give. He explained how he got separated from his troops and described the positions of the Imperial army fighting near the Praag walls in the north. None of those units could reach Moraveny quickly, and even if they could they likely had no idea of the beastmen herd, which broke out towards the east. Nor would they likely place the importance of one town above holding the front line in the north.

"Surely though…" Wilhelm continued. "The Kislevite forces being gathered by the Tzarina are assembled by now and will clear the country as they go north?"

"Bah! The nobles think nothing of a town of peasants and townspeople; they will head straight to the north where the most glory in fighting can be gained. Truly lieutenant if you had not realised this yet, remember; the nobles of Kislev are some of the bravest people in the world, but they are also vain, lazy and self centred, they do nothing but drink, hunt, fight and squabble with the tsarina over taxes. They have little care for the lower classes during war and even less outside of it!"

"You are saying?" inquired Wilhelm as he was getting a bit lost in the sudden outburst.

"The Tzarina will head straight to the north to Praag, the nobles will only stay and support the war effort long enough to break the back of the enemy. Once that happens the majority of the army will disperse, leaving many small bands of beastmen and looters still to be dealt with by local militias. We are cut off, but even if we got a word out to the Tzarina's forces no help would come for weeks. I was hoping your unit may be near enough to be of at least some assistance."

The meeting lasted for much of the morning, apart from Wilhelm and Ulrich several of the senior town guards joined them once it was clear the beastmen are once more retreating away from the burning lower city and it may be several hours before they can attack. Plans were laid down as best they could be.

The lower town burned fiercely for most of the morning, but by early afternoon most buildings were smouldering remains; and it became safe to enter the remains of the low town once again. The Beastmen army trickled in, then surged, between the smouldering ruins and broke on the walls of the high town once more. The fighting lasted well into the evening, the points where the lower town walls joined the upper town being particularly difficult for the defenders. But on this day the beastmen lacked the fury of the first day's assault and failed to make a lasting break in the defence line. Places where the wounded and sick were cared for expanded, and new ones sprung up in many buildings, to deal with the many casualties. Those who died had an official send off and the corpses were burned on pyres in one corner of the town square.


	10. Chapter 19 and 20

**Chapter Nineteen**

During the day the mayor received news of a Dwarven trading caravan, which had been heading towards the town from the mountains. Ulrich and Wilhelm along with several officers who were at the meeting the previous day were called again to an evening council.

"It seems they are well armed and armoured but few in number. They had not been aware of the beastmen host and were intending to travel into Kislev selling gunpowder and other munitions. But now they cannot cross through the beastmen in front of them and more beastmen roam the forest behind them. It is all they can do to try and take out some of the roving beastmen around their camp to keep their whereabouts secret for another day or week at best." the mayor was explaining to the gathered men.

"If they have gunpowder and rifles in the caravan then bringing them in could save, not just their, but also our skins. Our stocks will not last too long and we lack enough rifles to make a serious dent in each oncoming wave of beastmen." marksmen sergeant Kulig spoke up.

"We need to bring them in, that much is clear Kulig, but how? We don't have any cavalry to ride out, we don't have any heavy infantry, we have no cannons at all, and you barely have three-dozen riflemen under your command. Even if we put all of them on the east wall they will not be able to provide enough cover to a slow-moving Dwarven caravan. Nor do they have the range to protect them when the beastmen first notice them. They would be slaughtered."

"Perhaps if they came by the river?" suggested Kulig pointing at a point on the town plan they had spread on the table. "We could give them some aid if they could get to the docks, even archers could provide support, and we may be able to march out to assist in the unloading?"

"Marching out to fight the beastmen in the open? We don't have a lot of experienced soldiers, the trappers and farmers wouldn't have the discipline or skill to push through, the losses would be terrible and the whole affair may still fail. We need a distraction to reduce the numbers that could bear on us." the Mayor looked wistfully at Ulrich.

"Could you repeat your shot?"

"He could, I've seen him make a dozen equally difficult shots but…" interrupted Kulig. "…if you recall the last time, that wouldn't be the kind of distraction we need.

"Unless I could take their new leader before they were arrayed to fight…"

"You would have to be outside the walls to do that." Wilhelm dismissed the idea not looking up from the map.

But the seed of an idea was sewn; the mayor was scratching his chin and looking at Ulrich, considering the idea. Some of the other men nodded and murmured their approval. The discussion lasted until long after midnight. Many possible locations for an ambush were discussed and how many men it would take to make it successful. Ulrich argued that it wasn't a fight, and if they were caught out in the open it wouldn't matter much if they were ten or one hundred. After much discussion the others agreed with him, though he had to make a concession that he would take with him at least one more marksmen who knew the streets of the town and the near by forests. An hour before sunrise the Dwarven scout who brought the news to town was sent out to inform the others about the plan. He was offered a small lantern but he refused saying he was much more at home with the darkness than any possible beastmen sentries and he was safer without it. It was agreed that the dwarves would have the next day and night to construct rafts and load up what they could. On the morning of the second day they would float down the river aiming to arrive shortly after dawn.

 **Chapter Twenty**

Shortly before dawn Ulrich was in one of the western towers, it offered the best view of the beastmen movements to the north west of the city. Their main camp was on the edge of the forest to the north west of the city. At dawn the beastmen rose, arguing, fighting or eating before assembling into any kind of order by the shouts of the bigger stronger leaders. They didn't bring complicated weapons, siege machines, not even ranged weapons to the fight, so despite the chaotic way they gathered the whole process did not take long. When the beastmen horde was ready to march out their warlord would signal departure and horns and drums would carry his order. Within a short while they were marching through the rubble of the burned out lower city and charging to assault the walls again.

Ulrich noted that aside from the main force hundreds of sentries were left behind just out of shot range from the walls. Watching in case the humans tried to make any movements outside the walls. Even during the night the remainders of some of the more solid buildings, which didn't burn down completely, made convenient shelters for many groups of beastmen to keep out of the cold wind.

"Getting through the ruins of the lower town will be the most difficult part." he said to Pavel, the marksmen who volunteered to come with him.

"Maybe, maybe not, they don't expect us to come in small groups. They light small campfires and mostly stay inside the burned out buildings. So they don't have much night vision. We can set out tonight at sunset, we will have plenty of time to get through as long as we are quiet. It will be more difficult in the open field between the city limits and the edge of the forest. I saw some sentries there, patrolling without much light, they will be more observant.

"Time to get to work." Ulrich said as he pointed to the first beastmen already climbing ladders onto the walls.

The fighting was not as fierce as it had been on the first day. The beastmen realising they had a significant advantage in numbers had settled into more probing attacks seeking weaknesses. Finding few, they did not over commit to the attacks, understanding that the slow attrition of regular fighting was wearing more on the human defenders than on themselves. Ulrich and Pavel did not stay on the tower through the whole day. After the morning they headed for one of the buildings used as a rest point for soldiers near the tower. They spent some time smearing soot mixed with oil on all the shiny metal parts of their equipment to mask their movement at night. Once that was done they both tried to get some sleep, though not very successfully, before the evening.

They got up again when the beastmen horns sounded the withdrawal from the walls; the sun was hanging low over the horizon. Wilhelm stepped into the large main room of a former tavern where they were resting along with many of the wounded.

He shook hands with both of the men going out soon, wishing them good luck. He had offered his help to Ulrich several times since he made his decision to go. Ulrich steadfastly refused, saying that an injured man could not move quickly and quietly enough and would be more trouble than help. They exchanged a few words discussing the preparations for the following morning. Wilhelm had spent the day drilling about one hundred men who could be pulled off the wall in infantry formations. He admitted to the Mayor he himself knew very little about infantry formations save the theory. But as he was the only one who had even seen a block of infantry with long spears in combat he was nevertheless the best instructor they had.

Wilhelm described to Ulrich and Pavel how the men were armed with long spears and short swords or cleavers and divided into two blocks, they spent the day practicing movement together and being instructed how to keep the more numerous beastmen from overwhelming their blocks.

"I did what I could, but one day is barely enough to show them how to keep the square shape in the blocks and turn on command. But more importantly, these men don't know each other well, they aren't a unit, they have had no time to build trust. It will be a miracle if their discipline holds out in the face of the enemy onslaught."

"You doubt their resolve?" asked Pavel, sounding slightly offended.

"No, not their resolve, their trust in each other, most are trappers and hunters, they are brave enough, but not used to relying on other people. Still I am staking my life on their resolve tomorrow."

"You?" asked Ulrich surprised. "How can you fight with while so banged up?"

"I can't, but my role is only to shout orders tomorrow, if they hold out most of them will be fine, if they break none of us will come back. I explained this to them several times, but I didn't see much conviction. So I offered to lead them tomorrow. When they heard that an injured man is willing to go out there with them and risk his own neck, their mood visibly improved. So I have done the best thing I can for them, and now I hope not to regret it."

"Brave decision." said Pavel.

"If I cannot help you two out there tonight at least I can be useful here. I only wish we had horses and I could lead riders instead of infantry. In the empire we have some of the best-trained infantry in the world, but even there everyone knows their chances of survival are pinned on their discipline and in a fight they are always balancing on the edge of utter destruction."

With that, all three of them said their goodbyes again wishing each other that they may have a drink together the following day. Ulrich and Pavel took up their equipment and set off for the walls. Ulrich carried his long rifle and light battle-axe, a typically Kislevite weapon which could be used with great precision. The blade was narrow and backed with a point on the other side. It was a weapon used to break through armour or thick bone, more for skirmish than extended combat. Ulrich decided he preferred this to a sabre as he had more experience with axes and it would work well to end a small encounter quickly and quietly. Pavel chose a similar axe but also carried a short reflex-hunting bow. Neither of them had taken a pistol because they were afraid in a desperate fight they may be tempted to use it prematurely giving away their position with noise. Both of them took with them long hunting knives, gunpowder and a small amount of provisions because they were not sure if they would be able to get back into the city after the mission. They climbed the stairs up to the top of the wall and consulted the sentries there, on the whereabouts of the biggest concentrations of beastmen visible from the walls, and the best possible path through the ruined city.

Pavel was right, working through the city streets turned out easier than Ulrich expected. The beastmen were reasonably relaxed, they had the humans pinned in the city walls and didn't expect them to venture out. Mostly they sat huddled around small fires inside what remained of the burned out buildings. Hiding from the cold night wind they didn't really come out of their shelters. Many of them were talking or arguing in their harsh tongue and this provided some cover for the small sounds that the two men made as they crawled through the city.

Ulrich and Pavel were close to the outer part of the town, crawling quietly across a street. To their left a group of several beastmen were making a racket inside a burned out tavern. From the shouting and arguing it was clear they had discovered some undamaged ale or mead barrels in the basement. Ulrich could smell roasting meat in the air as well, but preferred not to think of that since the beastmen had not brought any animals with them to the battle. For much of the night they had been following this street, Pavel had known that this was one of the streets with a deep drain dug next to it. The drain stunk of sewage, though the fire had mercifully provided stronger smells of burned wood and pitch all over the city. Despite the stench, the drain had provided them with excellent cover and only occasionally they had to crawl across the street when a group of Beastmen were camped too close to it.

This was one of those occasions. The tavern where the beastmen were carrying on was largely burned out above ground. The remainders of the walls were only high enough for the beastmen to have their backs sheltered as they sat on the ground around the fire. Pavel in the lead and Ulrich behind him were about twenty paces from the beastmen and almost among the burned out remainders of buildings on the right side of the street. As they were crawling towards one of the burned out piles of rubble a couple of the beastmen suddenly stood up and headed into the darkness towards them. The two men had only moments to react, hoping that the beastmen were still blinded from the bright fire Ulrich got to his feet and dashed along the ground pulling on Pavel's collar to get him up as well. They quickly crossed the last couple of steps and jumped over the pile of rubble into the dark interior of the ruin they had been heading for.

Even as he landed on his hands and feet, rolling behind the rubble, Ulrich realised they were not alone. One of his hands came across a hoof when he landed and as he rolled up into a low kneeling position he came face to face with a large beastman head. A growl of displeasure at being woken up rose from the beastman and an eye popped open. Ulrich was not a warrior and had it been a human looking up at him he may have teetered in indecision for too long. But he was a hunter, and in front of him was, essentially an oversized goat head. Without any pause at all he slipped the hunting knife from his belt and rammed it home under the jawbone, same as a hundred times before when he was out hunting, and he wanted to finish off suffering quickly. Behind him and to the left he heard a crack and a softer sound as Pavel's axe smashed into the head of another beast. They both looked around the rest of the burned out room, but it seemed they were lucky and only two beastmen were there. Now they lay still, close to the rubble that separated them from the street. The two beastmen who were heading their way from across the street stood less than a couple of paces from Ulrich. As they paused to relive themselves on the rubble Ulrich felt a trickle of warm liquid splash on one of his hands. He bit his lip in disgust, but held still and made no sound until the beastmen turned and walked back across the street.

"Come on!" Pavel hissed as Ulrich got onto his hands and feet cursing quietly.

"No time for cursing now, we're nearly out, we can crawl down the back street behind these buildings."

The followed the tight backstreet, it was more difficult than the front, the street was so narrow that in many places the collapsed buildings obstructed it entirely and they had to crawl carefully through or over the rubble. But it took only a quarter of an hour before they were climbing down the remainder of the burned outside wall of the low town. The bulk of the wooden construction remained intact, being covered with clay and dirt to withstand fire, so they had to use rope to assist them on the smooth wall. There they faced a new problem, the edge of the enemy camp was no more than five hundred paces from them, but to get closer they had to crawl through open ground. It was dark but the grass had no time to grow tall yet and so for a while as they crawled, tense with fear, they had no cover at all. Luckily they came across a small drainage ditch or perhaps a stream, they couldn't quite tell in the dark. But it quickly took them closer to the camp as it was deep enough to hide them crawling more comfortably on all fours now. The water flowing in the stream was freezing cold but at least now it was fresh and clean, both men appreciated this after spending most of the night crawling through sewage.

The stream didn't take them all the way into the camp, it turned towards the east as it got closer to the forest and they couldn't follow it any further. But they were no more than sixty or seventy paces from the edge of the camp now, and they could see the large outline of the main tent in the light of the sentry fires. Ulrich signalled this was a good spot as he was less than one hundred and fifty paces from the tent and had a clear line of sight to the entry flap. They spent the remaining hours of the night shivering, as they couldn't quite get out of the cold water. Ulrich had loaded and re-checked every part of the firing mechanism. He also had several more charges in an oiled leather bag out next to him. Though he knew that if he missed his first shot he was unlikely to get a chance to fire again, and certainly not at the beastmen warlord. They agreed that if he hit his target they would run crouched low along the stream to the forest, but both knew now so close to the camp, that they had little chance of escaping, particularly if he missed.

The night around them turned to grey, the fires burned down into smouldering ashes, a cold and damp sunrise was shortly upon them when a towering figure suddenly appeared out of the central tent. Ulrich was ready by his rifle, though he was not expecting to use it so soon. He wondered if this was the warlord? He came out of the central tent, and surely he would not share it with others? This was his one chance to take a shot but he knew if this was not the right beastman their plan would be ruined. Full of doubts he took careful aim at the figure, Pavel held his breath next too him as he watched, too afraid of breaking Ulrich's concentration to make any sound.

The figure walked a couple of meters away to the right of the tent and stood evidently peeing on one of the smouldering fires as steam rose in a puff. One of the beastmen lying near the fire jumped up, clearly angry, but seeing the hulking figure he quickly though the better of it and bowed instead. This was the confirmation Ulrich needed, if this was not his sign he was not going to get a clearer one he thought. He exhaled and smoothly pressed the trigger. Ulrich knew the shot was good even before the noise finished reverberating. The hulking figure stood still for second more, than collapsed forward. Only the other beastman near the fire was up in the near by area and his head was bowed down so didn't see exactly where the shot came from. Ulrich and Pavel were off quickly dashing up the streambed towards the forest long before anyone had a chance to get to their firing position. By the time the camp was abuzz with activity a few moments later they had already reached the forest edge and could straighten up and sprint off. Though they kept to the streambed for a little while until they saw a good bit of hard ground where they could get out without making too visible a trail. They kept running at top speed until neither could keep it up anymore and they had covered at least a mile of forest. Not daring to stop and collapse they slowed down to a trot and continued directly away from the camp and turning a little to the east.

Only when the sun was high up in the sky signalling midmorning they dared to sit down in a thicket of bushes and listen if they were being pursued. Now as they sat they heard no footsteps or shouting near by. They were certainly at least three or four miles from the enemy camp, and further from the walls of the city. They expected they were being pursued even now, but they appeared to outdistance their pursuers, for the moment at least. As their breaths and heartbeats calmed down and they could hear more than the sound of their hearts pumping blood they heard something else. From the direction of the city they heard cracks of gunpowder weapons. They were quite far now and the sound was too loud for rifles, so it must have been the dwarves arriving at the city gates now. Both men hoped they had given them enough of a chance. After a few moments Pavel asked:

"Why the hell did you drag the rifle with you? It would have been easier to run without it, you left most of the charges by that ditch and it is no use now on the run."

"It is the only thing I have left of my family…also it hadn't occurred to me that it was even an option." replied Ulrich sheepishly.

Both of them laughed for a few moments, than without speaking got up and started walking again, this time southeast, away from the beastmen and towards the river. Which was their main hope for sneaking back into town.


	11. Chapter 21 and 22

**Chapter Twenty-one**

The sun was well behind the horizon, and the last light was dying away in the west before Ulrich and Pavel decided they could move again. Getting to the river earlier in the day proved to be no trouble; the Dwarven landing attracted every beastman in the forest towards the town. But therein lie the problem too. The beastmen, furious at the assassination of their new leader and even more incensed when they fund out it was a trick to get the dwarves into the town, surrounded the walls and attacked with renewed ferocity all day long. Ulrich and Pavel were stuck for hours hiding out under an overhang of the riverbank. They were less than half a mile from the town but the forest was awash with groups of beastmen cutting more wood for ladders before heading towards the walls. Groups of the wounded and panicked from pervious waves of broken attacks were huddling in places. A little way up the river they heard the baying of hounds, which were frustrated at loosing their tracks in the water.

Ulrich thanked the gods the wind was in their favour; a steady easterly had prevented any hint of their smell getting to the keen noses of the hounds. Smaller groups of searching beastmen passed their hiding place several times, and some had stood barely a few paces above them on top of the bank but they were well hidden.

Now as the activity on the bank above and in the forest beyond died down a little Ulrich and Pavel begun to move down river again. They walked waist deep in the water, slowly, more because of the shivering and exhaustion than because of trying to keep quiet. Again and again they stumbled on the rounded river pebbles but the constant bubbling and splashing of the fast flowing river disguised any sound they made.

Despite the small distance it took much of the evening to get to the jetty where the Dwarves had landed earlier in the day. Some of the rafts used by them were still here, as was some of the cargo. Clearly even with the diversion they had little time to unload. Ulrich edged carefully inland towards the walls of the high town, it wasn't far, but on his right he could see beastmen campfires no more than one hundred paces away. Dead beastmen were everywhere, here and there a dwarf or human body too. Ulrich checked some for pulse but the attacking beastmen earlier in the day clearly made sure there would be no wounded to rescue. Both men could see small lights on the high wall where sentries were keeping warm. The proximity of safety pushed them to speed up their step. Barely fifty paces from the walls they almost run into a scrawny beastman who was sitting between the corpses and chewing on something noisily. They couldn't react fast enough, hours of sitting in cold water had sapped all strength from their arms and legs. Had the beastmen known that, he may even have proved to be their undoing. But small as the beast was and confronted with two bigger opponents he assumed it was a patrol from the town and bolted for the beastmen campfires screeching. Ulrich and Pavel wasted no time, they run towards the walls now, but all they could manage was a trot. Still, they were close and reached the walls soon. Behind the two men, in the darkness, the screech of the small beastman was joined by angry howls of many others and they were clearly roused and coming towards the wall now.

Ulrich and Pavel shouted to the sentries on the walls, a torch dropped on the ground near them and they could see several bows and rifles taking aim at them before they could be recognised in the light.

"Don't shoot! We're friends, Ulrich and Pavel! Not beastmen!"

At this they could hear some exited comments on the wall. One of the voices said:

"Hold on, we'll drop a rope to you."

"Hurry they won't take long to get here."

The angry howls were getting closer now, and Ulrich could hear the horribly familiar baying of the hounds from a little further off as well. Several torches flew overhead to light up a circle of ground ten or fifteen paces around them.

"Climb quickly!" a shout sounded from the wall.

Pavel tried to grab the rope and climb but his hands and legs had no more strength left and he could not pull himself up. Ulrich tried to push him but he too was too weak to help, and even to climb himself he realised.

"Quickly, tie the rope around your chest." Ulrich instructed Pavel even as he was already looping the rope around his companion.

"Pull him up! We've no strength to climb!" he shouted to those at the top.

A moment passed before the rope went taught and Pavel started to rise, at the last moment Ulrich also pushed his rifle into the rising figure's hands. He knew this way would take longer than climbing and he needed to have his hands free. He pulled the axe from his belt and turned to face away from the wall to where the furious baying and howling was coming closer and closer now. He could already hear the thudding of the beastmen hooves on the ground.

But before any of the beastmen could get to the wall a shadow quietly bolted into the torchlight heading straight for Ulrich. A rifle fired from the wall and a loud curse went up from the man who shot as he realised he missed. Ulrich didn't have time to clearly identify the creature but he saw it was on four legs and he swung the axe hard at the spot he thought the head of any beast must be, while he stepped to the side in the last possible moment. The beast slammed into the wooden wall with such force it ripped the axe from Ulrich's hand. But after a violent twitch it slid down and was still with no more sound. Ulrich could see and hear the beastmen on the edge of the torchlight now. Several rifles erupted fire at the top of the wall now and the beastmen slowed down as some of their number fell to the ground. But as the thunderclap of the rifle fire quietened the beastmen renewed their run with even more furious shouts. Ulrich straggled to regain his axe, it was lodged deep in the skull of the beast and he had to make three attempts before it finally came loose. He turned to face the beastmen, though several more fell down with arrows in their chests, he could see at least four of them only ten paces away from him. He turned to face them, certain he could not defeat even one full strength opponent and at that moment something fell on his shoulder. He swung around in a panic but it was the rope loop being let down again. He put it over his shoulders ignoring the danger of the oncoming enemies. As he managed to get the rope under his arms and turn again toward the oncoming beastmen, two more were felled by shots in the last second before getting to him. Ulrich had to duck to the left to avoid a club smashing into him and he kicked at the other figure and was rewarded with a sharp pain in the side of his thigh, the rope finally managed to yank him up, digging into his chest and armpits painfully.

The howls of fury from under his feet would have been enough to curdle milk, he thought, even as another round of rifle fire felled more beastmen. With their quarry safely away, the remaining beasts howled abuse at the defenders from the darkness but did not dare to come closer to the walls again. Ulrich and Pavel were half led half carried down from the walls, and both fell asleep as soon as they were allowed to sit down in front of a warm fireplace.

 **Chapter Twenty-two**

Ulrich drifted out of sleep slowly. He saw he was sleeping in front of a fireplace, covered over with a fur. He couldn't quite remember how he got there but he was quite sure this was a safe place. It took a few more moments before he remembered the previous evening's finish. A sharp twang of pain in his leg as he shifted reminded him he didn't get away completely clean.

He sat up slowly. He saw Pavel was still asleep on the other side of the fireplace. Ulrich moved slowly, so as not to agitate the leg wound further, to sit down at one of the empty tables further from the fire in the room. He didn't recognise the place, but assumed it was the main room of one of the taverns being used for soldier's quarters. Now Ulrich examined his leg, the pants were cut away on the thigh and someone had bandaged the wound well. There was pain but it seemed like the wound was not too deep, though the cut stretched down most of his right thigh.

"Anybody here?" Ulrich spoke up; though he didn't want to be too loud and wake up Pavel he was hungry now.

"High time you woke up." said a chubby man who had a slightly dirty apron on and the look of an innkeeper.

"I was afraid I would have to wake the two of you up. The Mayor said you were to attend his meeting with officers and the dwarves this morning and it will be noon soon. Luckily for you their meeting seems to have stretched out quite a bit and one of the soldiers came by to say there was no hurry."

"Just what I need this morning, a meeting." grumbled Ulrich. Not used to living in among so many people he felt more comfortable keeping to a quiet corner.

"Don't complain you are the town hero, even the Dwarves spoke gratefully of your actions, and it takes a lot to get them to admit they owe anyone anything. Now, I'll get you something to eat then I'll get someone to help you walk to the mayor's office."

"Thanks, I'm starving. I think I can manage the walk too, just find me a walking stick or something, my leg is not too bad."

"As you wish." The tavern keeper disappeared in the kitchen and cam back soon with bread, cheese and soup as well as some hot herbal beverage.

"Poppy and willow bark tea, it will take most of the sting off the wound." the keeper said as Ulrich gave him a questioning look.

Half an hour later Wilhelm came to the tavern to help Ulrich walk to the meeting. Ulrich gave the tavern keeper a suspicious glare but didn't complain since he was glad to see his friend.

"Still in one piece I see, so the farmers and trappers held on to their spears?" Ulrich asked with a slightly mocking tone.

"They did, and not just that, they gave the beastmen a run for their money too. I tell you now, with a little training these men could be every bit as good as Imperial infantry. In the face of the enemy none lost their nerve or questioned the orders. Though it took my entire vocabulary of Kislevite cursing to stop them charging after the beastmen whenever an attack wave broke."

They quickly exchanged their stories of the previous day's events. Ulrich covered his luck in killing of the enemy warlord in detail though he shortened the story of the rest of the day spent running and hiding out. Finishing with their return to the town. Wilhelm in turn told him a little of what the sentries told him of the affair from their point of view on top of the wall. They mentioned he was very lucky as there would have been a lot more beastmen coming after him had he not been pulled up.

After that, taking advantage of the fact that Ulrich could not walk fast Wilhelm told him of the Dwarves arrival in the town the previous morning. It had gone according to plan. The loss of their leader meant that the beastmen took much longer to mobilise. When the Dwarves floated down the river it was a complete surprise to the couple hundred sentries the beastmen left near the riverbank. They tried charging the jetty and the dwarves first, but this failed quickly; the dwarves were ready for this and they had set up a couple of small cannons before anything else came off the barges. They had several riflemen of their own as well, so with the support of the riflemen on the walls they kept the beastmen at bay easily. The remaining beastmen, infuriated by the situation, called for reinforcements but those took nearly half an hour, by which time more than half of the Dwarven supplies were already in the town. Now came the tough part, several hundred beastmen gathered and charged the dwarves and the two small blocks of infantry assisting them. The cannons and the rifles made terrible inroads in the enemy ranks, but with so many more coming up behind it was not long before the fighting was hand-to-hand. Here the infantry performed well, retreating to hold a shorter line around the jetty itself, they held out first and managed to push the beastmen back several times. Behind them the dwarves managed to pile the most important of the remaining supplies including the cannons onto a couple of carts. With one block of infantry clearing the way towards the gate and the other protecting their flank the remaining Dwarven warriors closed the back of the procession while the carts made their slow painful way towards the town. By the time the whole procession finally got to the gate it was high time for them to retreat as more and more beastmen were crushing in waves against the forest of spears. With the help of concentrated salvos of lead and arrows from above the gate the carts were pushed in and the soldiers made their way in as well. Though it took more effort and bloody fighting before the gate was finally slammed shut again.

By this time the first waves of the main army were arriving from the enemy camp, infuriated at the double insult of this morning. But with a handful of the dwarven cannons installed on the walls and the addition of the dwarven riflemen the balance of forces was now in the defenders favour. Any time a throng of beastmen got too thick for the defenders to fight off, the cannons concentrated fire near the base of the wall, which stemmed the tide from continuing up the wall. The fighting was furious the rest of the day, but the defenders took minimal losses and were able to transport all their wounded off the walls easily, while the beastmen below had huge losses inflicted upon them. Wilhelm finished his story quickly as they got to the mayors office and the guard showed them inside.

Ulrich heard the loud argument before they even managed to get in the door, though it silenced quickly when they came in. He took in the scene; several Dwarves sitting on one side of the table while the mayor with his officers were on the other. The faces around both sides of the table red with anger, clearly the meeting had not been going very well.

"Ah Ulrich!" said the Mayor with clear relief in his voice as he jumped on the chance to cool down the atmosphere in the room.

"Dear Sirs." he said addressing the Dwarves on the other side of the table.

"This is the marksman who made your entrance into the town possible."

Some of the Dwarves were beginning to grumble at this too, but the one sitting in the middle of the table raised his hand for silence and got up. With a very serious look on his heavily bearded face he came towards Ulrich with his hand held out to shake Ulrich's. The dwarf was dressed in heavy leathers with fine chainmail over the top. A heavy golden amulet was hanging around his neck. Ulrich recognised this as the mark of the chief of a trading caravan. In fact the dwarf himself looked familiar.

"Ulrich grandson of Johan the marksman." the dwarf said bowing.

"We owe you much gratitude for your brave deed, young one, and I Guderun of the Clan of Ironsmiths make a promise to you to repay this debt one day. I hope your grandfather is well?" the dwarf asked as he straightened up again.

Now Ulrich realised he had seen the dwarf years before in one of the groups of dwarves, which passed their little cottage.

"I wish it was so sir, but he was killed by a band of cowardly mutants not one moon ago. I tracked them down and managed to kill most, but the last of their number managed to slip out and run to this town. With the help of Wilhelm…" here he pointed to his friend. "…And some of my grandfather's old companions in the town I managed to end that worthless life, but the trail leads further south to the empire. I would follow it, but was detained by the siege of the town."

The dwarves listened to the story gravely, the mayor too listened with a look of surprise and his eyebrow shot up when he heard the part about ending a worthless life in his town.

"But even as I am glad to meet friends of my grandfather here I can not help but notice coming in that this meeting was not proceeding in the friendly manner I would have expected between allies."

At this one of the dwarves shot up to his feet again, and so did a number of the officers on the other side of the table. But Gudrun raised both hands to forestall the argument and explained himself, in reserved tones:

"Grateful for your help and for the assistance of the townsfolk we are. But while we are happy to put our cannons on the walls and my warriors are even now assisting in the fighting it seems that our allies feel they can claim all of my gunpowder cargo for their trouble. Help in war and gratitude is one thing, but these demands offend us and to ruin a trader so would be a criminal act, even in war."

Ulrich looked at the red faces in the room, Gudrun had finished his tale, but for some inexplicable reason everyone was frozen still, wanting to hear what Ulrich had to say on the matter. This he found absurd, he was a young trapper with little experience in trade and no status to speak off in this meeting. But thinking about the situation he remembered his grandfather's dealings with the dwarves in happier times. Johan told him after such occasions that haggling with a dwarf was a difficult business and much care had to be taken not to insult the honour of the trader. Now Ulrich though he may see a way out of the difficulty.

"Perhaps part of the problem is too many short tempers in the room. I think it would be wiser to ask the officers of both the town and the caravan to address the matters on the walls of the city where even now their soldiers are defending us. While the three of us." he said looking at Gudrun and the Mayor. "And perhaps Wilhelm as an imperial representative in the town, should sit down with a flask of mead and a keg of ale to talk this business out in a more civilised manner."

Grumbling rose from both side of the table but the Mayor and the Dwarven Chief both turned to their followers and nodded agreement signalling the unnecessary men out the door.

Ale and mead were brought in, all four men drunk a couple of cups grateful for the respite in the negotiations. Then with full mugs of ale fell back to the business at hand. The Dwarf Gudrun having already spoken before, allowed the Mayor of the town his turn to speak.

"We lost several men in those infantry blocks outside the walls yesterday, and much of our remaining stocks of gunpowder providing support for the caravan to enter the town. This is war and we don't mind some sacrifice but we can not stomach a complete denial of any gratitude from the dwarves this morning and we need the supplies to keep the beastmen out of the town, and protect not just our but their heads also." He said in a slightly sulky and accusatory tone.

"I think I see where the problem lies. " stated Ulrich, heading off Gudrun's complaint.

"Chief Gudrun, you can not deny that the town's people helped you yesterday right?"

The dwarf nodded and was going to say something but Ulrich didn't give him a chance to speak.

"And you mayor have to admit, the Dwarven cannons were on the walls all day yesterday and are there now too, just as the rest of the Dwarven warriors are."

"Well yes but…" the mayor halted again when Ulrich signalled he wasn't finished.

"So the way I see it, the main problem is in words. Chief Gudrun, dwarves are brave and tough, perhaps you could have managed to fight through to the gates on your own, but you would have taken heavier losses and you would have lost much of your merchandise. Perhaps than you could calculate how much this help was worth to you?"

The Dwarf nodded thoughtfully already deep in thought. Now Ulrich turned to the mayor.

"Now, it is fair to say the townsfolk helped the dwarves, but you must admit the siege was not looking to well before they arrived, so they are providing you a service as much as you are to them. While it is fair they should stand on the walls and help their hosts while they are being fed here, it would be poor gratitude you show them for their help if you confiscate their goods. So my suggestion is, that so long as the dwarves remain in the town they assist the townsfolk on the walls, this is only common courtesy and any gunpowder they use for this is their own burden. The town soldiers will not touch the caravan's goods. But the dwarves will calculate how much the aid they received was worth, and pay this to the town garrison, in gunpowder and rifles. While the townsfolk will in their turn express their gratitude for such a gift since their help to the Dwarves was not in the spirit of commerce but simple kindness. This means the dwarves will resupply themselves and stay up on the walls fighting alongside the soldiers who will be resupplied with fresh gunpowder and no one's honour suffers in the process."

The mayor's face was incredulous not with anger but with surprise that such a solution would be acceptable to the Dwarves. The fighting would take much of the Dwarven supplies anyway so the difference was only in words not in material goods. But the face of the Dwarf now beamed a satisfied grin.

"Ha! Johan was a tough negotiator when it came to business, and it seems he taught you well. This is an honourable agreement for any Dwarf to take and we will accept…after we negotiate the size of our "gift" to the town garrison of course."

"This, I believe, can best be handled by the caravan's and the town's accountants in their turn, while we drink to the deal." Ulrich raised his mug to make his point.

The town's accountant and the Dwarven caravan's account keeper spent many hours working out the details of the "gift". In the end producing several pages of script outlining the details, which both leaders signed without much inquiry about the details. The dwarves had even agreed to leave their cannons permanently on the town walls in exchange for exclusive fur and grain trading rights for the following year.

During the celebration of this agreement later in the evening Ulrich informed the Mayor that after a couple days of rest he would wish to move on to investigate who and why had ordered his grandfather killed. Arguing the town was well supplied to hold out for a while and there was little more a lone marksmen could do for them. Wilhelm offered to accompany him going west, though he pointed out he would have to re-join the Imperial Army once they came near Imperial forces or he would be considered a deserter. The Mayor said he would miss their services but he would issue them an official letter of conduct detailing their role in the defence of the town and they would receive any clothes and equipment they needed from the town arsenal.

Later when they returned to their quarters in Andreas's tavern, he too offered to help by sending his son Uve with them. Uve would be able to help them contact Andreas's old comrades from his army days.


	12. Chapter 23 and 24

**Chapter Twenty Three**

Ulrich was letting the rope slip more rapidly around his waste, as the rock face he was climbing down was smoother here towards the river. A few more steps and he was standing in the small canoe. It was two days after he had announced he wanted to move on, together with Wilhelm and Uve they set out in the pre-dawn darkness. This time they would use the river to clear the siege, they were let down a steep cliff towards the river on a rope. Uve had gone first to settle the canoe in water ahead of their arrival. Ulrich was wearing a new hardened leather vest as well as a new set of felt pants and tunic, both in green. All was a gift from the Mayor, though he carried the same weapons with him, the long rifle, a brace of pistols, a hunting knife, and his light battle-axe. Wilhelm gratefully accepted a short sleeveless chain mail tunic from the Dwarves and a light riding-helmet from the Mayor, but he stuck to his uniform rather than accept new clothes. He was glad to accept a second pistol to complement the one he already had accepted nothing else but stuck instead to the sabre given to him by Petr.

Thus rearmed and rested, though still recovering from various injuries, all three men sat down carefully in the canoe. Uve passed forward the short two-handed paddles they would use to steer the boat on the river. Wilhelm alone had no experience of either sitting in a canoe or using the short paddles so he was told to sit in the middle and not rock the boat too much while the other two controlled the small vessel. They didn't talk at first because the river wound north first and past the ruined low town and the fields of beastmen camp's tents beyond it. For this reason they steered towards the left bank of the river early and let the river do most of the work so they would not give their position away with any paddling noise. The river was deep enough here that they didn't need to worry about hitting rocks and the brightening sky in the east gave them just enough light to see the black outline of the bank to their left.

They passed by the enemy camp unnoticed, and took up the paddles once again when they were another few hundred paces from it. They paddled most of the morning steadily in silence. The day warmed up as they floated down the fast flowing river. Moraveny was the most upriver town the larger trading craft could get. It was too rough for barges but smaller sailboats with rowing crews regularly travelled this section of the river in times of peace. So despite the extra water from the spring melt and the speed of the current the canoe did not encounter too much trouble navigating around rougher patches of the river channel. Wilhelm was the first to speak up when the sun was almost directly overhead.

"How long will it take for us to reach Baltyn? I will have to turn to the north from there."

"The current is very strong this time of the year, we can cover ground faster than we could on foot. If we sleep in the boat and take turns to stay awake at night to keep it in the middle of the channel, we could cover more than one hundred miles a day. If nothing interrupts us we will be in Boltyn within three days. By this time I would expect there will be Kislevite armies heading north to relive the siege of Praag, so you may be able to join up with them." replied Uve.

"I am sorry I won't be able to join you straight away Ulrich, but I would be counted a deserter if I don't try to join up with my unit. I will try to get to Koerin and find you as soon as I am freed from contract. Though this may last a couple more months before the thick of the fighting is done."

"You've already helped me plenty and I will remember it Wilhelm, I hold you to no debt, I needed your help to fight the mutants and catch the last of them as much as you needed my help. I hope we can meet again after this is finished." replied Ulrich.

The next three days went by uneventfully, they stopped only to stretch their legs or relieve themselves. A couple of times they sighted small groups of beastmen in the forest by the river, but far enough that their passage went unnoticed. At night they took turns to steer the boat. By the time they sighted Baltyn late in the third day on the river, even Wilhelm had learned to steer and was comfortably balancing in the boat.

The town looked untouched by the ravages of the war. Though they could see more guards and lookouts on the stockade than would be usual in peaceful times. They pulled into the small river docks outside the city walls. Uve and Ulrich agreed to help Wilhelm buy a horse and find out if there were any soldiers heading north, since he still spoke only very rudimentary Kislevite and his Averland accent made most of those difficult for locals to understand.

They were in luck, and it took only half an hour to find a group of light cavalry from Kislev's southern Oblast who were heading to Praag. Their Rotmistsh, Zbyshko, was sympathetic to anyone who fought the chaos troops and still wanted to come back north to fight again. Wilhelm was given one of the spare horses as well as a round shield and a spear. Zbyshko explained he would need the weapons if they run into beastmen on the way and had to charge them. Which, they usually did if they were given the opportunity, he admitted with a smile. Zbyshko came from a village near the border with Ostenmark so he spoke decent Imperial.

Wilhelm rode out on his new horse to the bank of the river and followed it for a few hundred paces to bid Ulrich and Uve goodbye as they set out straight away again. The rota he joined had been riding hard for a few days and was taking a day's rest in Boltyn so he had the time. The short ride allowed Wilhelm time to appraise the horse he was given. It was a grey stallion with darker dappling on the front and rump. It was smaller than horses used by the pistoliers but not as small as the smaller pony-like Kislevite horses he had seen in the north of Kislev. It held its head and tail high as it moved and responded nimbly to all his commands. Though he wished the horse was a little bigger, like the Averland horses he was used to, he was impressed with the speed and agility of the stallion, and was looking forward to riding out north again the following day.

 **Chapter Twenty Four**

The landscape changed dramatically from the last time he was riding through it, thought Wilhelm, as he rode north with the Kislevites. The last time he rode through the fields were bare earth; snowdrifts still haunted the shady spots. Apart from the evergreens everything had been grey then. Now the land had exploded with lush green all around, fresh grass covered every scrap of it. Fruit trees in the villages were already greening with leaves as the last of the spring flowers dropped to the ground.

One thing had not changed; very few villagers were about. Most buildings were still empty; though it did not appear that the area had suffered more in the time he had been further north. The other riders with him looked at the unploughed fields with discomfort. Zbyshko had informed him that Tzarina's main army was still several days behind them because it took more time for the nobles of Kislev to assemble their Winged Lancers than it took to call together the levees of lighter cavalry from towns and villages. The main army also had substantial regiments of infantry, crucial to bolster fortress defences or besiege those that were already in the hands of the enemy. With so few of the peasants daring to stay in their villages and work the land it was likely the harvest would be small again this year. It would be tough to feed the population in the coming winter. The reconstruction after the last great war would also be delayed since grain was one of the few exports of Kislev which earned it the much needed cash to pay for rebuilding.

When Wilhelm asked why not keep a larger standing army for such incursions Zbyshko explained that in Kislev the nobles had a lot of autonomy, they had to defend from all the smaller incursions on their own most of the time. Thus they needed their troops at home. Despite the great respect most had for the Tzarina, many of the nobles withheld some of the taxes they owed and refused to agree to new ones. Some of the previous Tzars had given away too many privileges to the nobility to buy their loyalty, and now the power of the central seat of the Tzars was much weaker than in the Empire.

Zbyshko himself was a noble as most officers, though he was one of those who supported the Tzarina's efforts to strengthen the central seat of power.

"Without a large standing army…" he argued. "…we will always loose time and ground in the spring when the chaos army marches. Some say this is the way it has always been and the Tzarina has no right to change the laws, but the Chaos forces have not always marched in hosts as large as now. If we had another march such as that of Archaon this land may be finished entirely and may never recover."

Following this conversation he asked Wilhelm many questions about how the standing armies are organised in the Empire and the individual provinces. So they passed time, as the Rota moved north. The Kislevite horses were strong and it took them only two days before their march took them as far as Gutaidra, the last big town before Praag.

It was late in the afternoon and they intended to rest in the town before riding out the final stretch. They expected to be fighting straight away so Zbyshko wanted his men and horses well rested before they fought. This plan however was disrupted when they reached the town. As soon as they got in view of the town walls a rider was sent out to them to inform them that the Imperial forces south of Praag had taken such heavy losses on the day that they intended to pull back to Gutaidra as soon as possible. Most likely they would attempt to retreat to the more easily defended walls of the town after sunset.

Wilhelm didn't need to convince the Kislevite Rotmistsh that the Imperial army with its infantry and artillery would be slow to retreat and would need much help to survive the march in the night. The troops left behind their packhorses in the town and moved out at a fast trot towards Praag. Zbyshko didn't want to tire the horses out completely but wanted to cover as much distance as possible in the last couple hours of daylight before they would have to slow again to keep the horses from tripping too much.

It was nearly two hours after sunset when they met the first Imperial troops. They were mostly the men wounded in the previous days. Those who could walk were in the front; light wagons followed them with those who could not. A badly undermanned regiment of spearmen escorted the wounded, their captain appraised Wilhelm and Zbyshko of the situation.

"The wounded were led out the back of our stockade quietly soon after sundown, while the artillery was still firing on the last known position of the chaos troops. The infantry and the lighter artillery was to march out as soon as the fighting ceases for the day and the enemy are too far from our camp to notice. The cavalry will ride out last, their armour and the hooves of the heavy horses will give away our intention to the enemy if the retreat is not discovered before then. Unfortunately much of the heavy artillery will be abandoned because they would be too slow to move.

"How many men remain?" asked Wilhelm.

"Barely a half of those who marched north. Some pistoliers and other light cavalry is still out of the camp trying to disrupt the enemy supply line. But they are in the east, and will be separated from us by the enemy, so they will not be able to assist."

"We will." said Zbyshko and waved the column of Kislevites to keep moving.

"Happy hunting." replied the captain and moved off down the road.

It took one more hour before they finally reached the edge of the Praag valley. Only the red moon was in the sky and not full, so they could not see what is going on at the bottom. On their way they had passed several other trains of small artillery and infantry, so they assumed it was nearly time for the cavalry to move out.

Then, before they could decide if they should ride down into the valley to assist they heard it. What started out as a faint rustling noise quickly grew to sound more like an avalanche.

"The Reiksguard!" shouted Wilhelm. "The heaviest cavalry in the World!" he added for the Kislevite's benefit assuming he may not be familiar with Imperial formations.

"This would wake the dead! We won't have much time before the Beastmen charge!" Zabyshko shouted back.

Wilhelm knew this to be true, the noise and ground trebling which assisted any Reiksguard charge normally served to bolster the morale of the Imperial troops or break that of the enemy. Tonight though it merely betrayed their retreat to the beastmen who were even now beginning to howl with rage down in the valley. Nor was heavy cavalry any good at facing an enemy they could barely see on uneven roads and in the forest. While the beastmen infantry had spent their entire lives living in dark forests and would be in their element as soon as they caught up to the column of horses.

The Kislevites stopped on the hill, waiting for the heavy column to get closer to them following the road that run up and across the face of the valley. They had to shout to identify themselves as friend when the first riders came over the edge of the valley. While the column rode on past them, one of the men from the front turned and rode out towards them.

"What formation is this and on whose orders?" a gruff voice shouted in Imperial.

"First Kislevite Rota from Kyrnoka under the command of Rotmitsh Zbyshko of Kyrnoka, light cavalry, we will try to protect your retreat." shouted back Zbyshko.

"How many men do you have?!"

"Nearly two hundred!"

"Drop in a bucket!" His voice resounded with clear disappointment.

"Do what you can, if you can hold them here for a few minutes we may have enough time to get to the break in the forest down the road before they do, we could turn and charge them there once or twice. The infantry will need more time!" He turned to follow the rest of the column even before the last words rung out.

Zbyshko shouted something to the horn blower in Kislvite, the Hornblower gave a steady slow signal.

"That means: get ready for charge." Zbyshko clarified for Wilhelm.

"You mean to charge them as they climb the edge of the upland?" Wilhelm asked.

"No! I mean to charge them now, while they are still on the slope struggling to come up!" He shouted and turned to give a quick command to the horn blower.

This time the horn blower gave a more urgent shorter signal and the Kislevite horses moved forward as one. Even Wilhelm's horse moved ahead with the rest even before Wilhelm had time to signal it as he was still struggling to bring the shield around from where it was on his back.

Wilhelm had never done anything like that charge before, and later as he recalled it he dearly wished he never would again. The Kislevite horses crowded closely together in the narrow space of the road and charged at full gallop down the hill. The weight of the column scattered or trampled all the terrified beastmen in their way. The charge did not last long, though it seemed an eternity to Wilhelm, who was more used to shooting at the enemy than charging at full speed deep into the enemy ranks. It was their luck that the first of the beastmen who had reached the road were the swiftest but smallest beasts that for the most part had no armour. So they hardly put up a fight when faced with charging cavalry. When they had nearly reached the bottom of the slope to the valley floor, Zbyshko somehow managed to signal the column to the right, as he did they turned and run across the face of the main mass of the furious beastmen host. Marching more slowly these were the bigger beasts with shields and some armour as well as better weapons. Several of the Kislevites, who still had spears after the charge, threw them into the crowding mass of enemies on their left raising howls of pain and anger. The beastmen, surprised at the daring manoeuvre, never the less recognised their ancient and hated enemy. The Kislevites had blocked their access to the realms of men for thousands of years, and their hatred was what Zbyshko was counting on. Most of the beastmen in the front of that mass turned and chased the horsemen, those behind following blindly in the darkness and confusion. Their pursuit of the Imperial troops forgotten momentarily. The Kislevites passed in front of the gates of the empty Imperial camp and continued up the valley to the east, the pace now set to a slower gallop, which allowed more careful footing for the horses. It also meant the enemy was nearly able to keep up, for nearly twenty minutes the beastmen chased before fatigue had dampened their anger enough that they realised they were tricked. With more angry curses they turned around and disappeared from view and hearing range moving back to the west again. The Kislevites column slowed to an easy trot now allowing the horses to catch their breath.

"Should we follow them and try to bait them again?" asked Wilhelm.

"No. Too dark for us to manoeuvre easily in the mud of these fields and even beastmen do not fall for the same trick twice. There are other beasts out there too, not to mention the chaos warriors plated in living armour, against them our weapons would be useless. They are slower though, and it was mostly the beastmen who were the danger to the retreat. We gave the Imperials at least an additional half hour lead now. We should move up the side of the valley and cut through the forest towards Gutaidra. This was not the last time our services will be needed tonight.

It took them a while to climb up the slope out of the valley again; they walked, leading their horses to avoid tiring them beyond endurance. Similarly only an easy trot was allowed in the forest. Despite this they quickly run into several small groups of beastmen heading south. Each time a surprise charge from the back quickly broke the small groups of enemy and allowed the Kislevites to keep moving towards the town.

Zbyshko was right. When they had finally caught up to the retreating Imperial army it was the Reiksguard who were keeping the beastmen from pursuing the infantry. They were ranged across a wide clearing, which cut the forest a few kilometres from the edge of the valley. Several small bonfires had been lit in the clearing. In their light it was clear that the beastmen had attempted to pass several times already, shaggy brown corpses piled high in places. It was clear too to Wilhelm that the Reiksguard could not hold out here much longer. The field was already strewn with bodies, and the bonfires were too close to the beastmen ranged along the other side of the clearing to be maintained. Soon the clearing would drown in darkness again and the Reiksguard horses would find it impossible to charge in the dark without tripping on the piles of bodies.

Wilhelm and the rest of the Rota were arranged along the eastern edge of the wide clearing, neither the beastmen nor the Reiksguard had any troops spread out wide enough to notice them as they stood in the dark.

When they beastmen finally dared to charge one more time they got just past the half way point of the clearing when the Reiksguard horn blowers signalled another charge. Alost instantly more horns were heard from the east, the beastmen once again facing the galloping heavy cavalry and hearing more reinforcements to the east slowed with uncertainty. This doubt was what the Reiksguard needed to carry their frontline and send them retreating one more time, when the Kislevite charge reached the beastmen flank the retreat turned to a rout.

Neither formation followed the running beastmen into the forest on the side of the clearing where they had come from. It was clear, that though cowed for the moment, there would be more enemy coming soon enough and it was time to abandon the clearing. The Reiksguard went ahead, this time heading straight for the town without stopping to fight again. The Kislevites continued to make raids on small groups of beastmen who were ahead of the main force slowing their advance towards the infantry trains. The sun was rising by the time the exhausted Kislevite column finally emerged from the forest near Gutaidra and entered the town only moments before the beastmen burst out behind them. Here however the beastmen were greeted by a mass of rifle and small artillery fire from the top of the stonewalls of the town.


	13. Chapter 25 and 26

**Chapter Twenty-five**

Wilhelm stayed with the Kislevites long enough to see where they would be quartered. Then Wilhelm headed for the town center where he assumed the command would be. He had not stopped in this town the first time he headed north with his unit; now walking through it he noticed it was very similar in plan to Baltyn. So he was not surprised to see several Dwarven built taverns and shops as he got close to the town square. It was one of those large solid structures he was shown to when he asked for the Imperial command.

He was stopped by the guards at the door and questioned briefly; he explained he was returning to duty after being separated from his troops. They allowed him to come in eventually but directed him to be seated in the main chamber of the tavern and wait until General Schwartz or one of the other senior officers had time to see him. Wilhelm thought he may have to wait all day because there were more senior officers and messenger coming and going all the time. Which was fine with him because exhausted from the all day march and all night fight in the saddle he was half asleep almost as soon as he sat down.

Suddenly he felt someone shaking his shoulder, Wilhelm opened his eyes but it took a moment before they could focus.

"Back from the dead it seems? " Wilhelm struggled to see who was asking, his eyes still bleary, the voice seemed familiar.

"Dead?" he blurted out before his tired mind finally supplied the information he was looking for.

"Captain Brandt? Good to see you sir. Not dead sir, just separated from my unit for a couple of weeks."

He said with more urgency now standing up to salute. The solid Reiksguard Captain, still wearing full armour, looked at him again quizzically. As if trying to place something in his, most likely also exhausted, mind. Suddenly his eyes widened a little with some realisation and he smiled broadly.

"You were out there last night with that Kislevite riders unit!" he exclaimed.

"Yes sir, I joined them in Baltyn a couple days ago to come back north."

"Well, by Gods Wilhelm, come in to the General's meeting room, I had just been praising your exploits from last night!"

Wilhelm followed Captain Brandt, still a little groggy, not quite sure what his exploits were and if they would get him in trouble. His mind had largely cleared when he was led up the stairs of the tavern into one of the bigger rooms where the usual furniture was cleared out and replaced with one large table and several chairs.

"General?" Captain Brandt spoke to the older man, who had already had time to take his armour off and was now sitting at the end of the table.

"May I reintroduce you to…" the Captain started, but was interrupted.

"Wilhelm Von Saltz, lieutenant of the fifth regiment of Averland pistoliers." The general paused with an amused smile, and then continued.

"Recently reported dead by the afore mentioned fifth company of Averland pistoliers." Wilhelm cringed hearing this.

"I can explain Sir." General Schwartz nodded his head slightly, still with the amused look on his face, signalling him to continue.

"I was not killed sir, my horse was and I was pinned under. The beastmen we were fighting missed me and I was able to escape to the forest. Then I travelled southeast looking to find any human settlement. I travelled as far south as Moraveny." one of the gathered men whistled impressed.

"I was stuck there for a few days, the town is besieged by beastmen you see sir…"

"How many?!" he was interrupted by one of the men at the table, who looked more like a clerk than a soldier and who was looking keenly at the map spread out on the table.

"Er, how many sir?" Wilhelm considered it for a moment. "At least two thousand were reported as first, perhaps half of that number died in the fighting already, but for all the losses more kept coming from the forest to replenish their ranks. Impossible to be sure, but I would venture to say at least two thousand are still camped below the walls of Moraveny.

The clerk looking man placed two wooden markers on the map where Moraveny was only marked with a round nameless dot. Just then a knock on the door sounded, and Captain Brandt turned to see whom it was.

"Continue." the General urged Wilhelm.

"The lower part of the town was burned after the first night of fighting…" Someone in the audience cursed. "…but the ramparts of the high town are much stronger and after we managed to assist a Dwarven trading caravan to sneak into the town it was resupplied with plenty of gunpowder and several small cannons as well. The situation is stable there sir, the beastmen have only infantry and the town will hold out at least a month more unless there is a big change in the enemy numbers or makeup. That said sir, they do not have many professional soldiers and they will not be able to break the siege without help. At that point I snuck out of the town using the river. Then I run into Rotmistsh Zbyshko and his Kislevites in Baltyn. We had been approaching Gutaidra for a rest yesterday afternoon when we heard about the retreat and moved north quickly to assist…"

"So. You were with the Kislevites last night?" asked the general in a serious tone.

"Yes he was." Zbyshko had just come in with Captain Brandt.

"And a great help too, he came up with the plan to assist the heavies." here he pointed to Captain Brandt.

"At that clearing in the forest, I would have not gone there if it was not for him because I had assumed they would have cleared long before then."

"We could not." supplied Brandt. "Too many infantry and artillery units were still far from the city."

"So Wilhelm said. He needed to convince me too, we do not have much experience with slow infantry and artillery units in the Kislev army you must understand." Zbyshko managed to convey both a reprimand for the speed of the imperial troops and some embarrassment for his lack of knowledge of it.

"We are all glad you did assist there." This time the General spoke solemnly.

"Had you not, I hate to think what would happen to the retreat if the Reiksguard lost the clearing. You have our gratitude Rotmistsh Zbyshko."

"None is necessary Sir, it is I who am grateful, your troops fight to assist my country after all." Zbyshko said with a deep bow to the general.

Wilhelm was asked to retell his story in detail to an army scribe, separating from his unit was a serious matter in the Imperial army. However given the details of his account and conduct the officers who were charged with deciding his fate later that morning found his conduct to be proper. He was reinstated to his previous rank of Lieutenant and, to his amazement, even put back in charge of his unit as soon as it was back from the steppes. He was offered a seat in the council room as the planning of the city defence and preparation for the arrival of more Kislevite troops went on. But he declined the honour and retired to rest in the quarters where the Kislevite unit was stationed.

He questioned the wisdom of returning to rest among the Kislevites when only a couple hours later the Kislevite soldiers woke him up to drink with them to victory. Which he did, repeatedly and before the sunset he was again asleep in a corner of the room where Kislevite officers celebrated.

The next morning he finally woke up rested and headed out towards the command centre. He was very happy to find out that his Pistoliers unit had arrived in town overnight having broken in through the Chaos forces on the outskirts of town. He was even more cheered to know that also overnight, several more regiments of Kislevite light riders reached the town and the following day, the first Rota of the elite Winged Lancers of Kislev would arrive by the town walls.

"We will ride out to meet them with the other Kislevite riders who are in town already." Zbyshko told him as they were standing in the street, which doubled up as the stables for their horses.

"I wish you all the best Zbyshko, we know each other briefly but I will regret parting with you and your men. My Pistoliers have taken heavy losses and they will not ride out for a few days yet." He turned to the grey stallion he had ridden the last few days.

"He is an excellent horse, I will regret parting with him too. But thank you for lending him to me while we rode together."

"He is not from one of the famous old bloodlines, but he does have every bit of their quality in movement and shape. He comes from one of my family's herds. Imperials don't often recognise the quality in these horses, smaller as they are from your battle steads."

"Many people in the Empire don't know a horse from a donkey, but I come from the south where we have open steppes to rival these of Kislev in size. I know horses and I would have to be blind not to be impressed by this beast. True he is smaller, but he also delivers a smoother ride, turns on a pin and charges into enemy lines without the slightest hesitation. It takes years to train a horse this well." replied Wilhelm and the respect for the stallion's qualities was clear in his voice.

"Months, months of training…but centuries of breeding." Zbyshko finished with a smile at the look of disbelief in Wilhelm's eyes.

"I see you know your horses well Wilhelm. Keep the horse, and may it keep you safe in your future battles. His name is "Grom" it means thunder in Kislevite. Treat him well."

 **Chapter Twenty-six**

Ulrich and Uve reached Erengrad one week after parting with Wilhelm. It was the third biggest city of Kislev and the most important one economically. Most grain, wood, furs and other products Kislev had to sell came down the river to the coast and Erengrad. From here sea going ships took the cargo onto many parts of the Old World from Albion and Marienburg all the way to Estalia and Tillea. Apart from being the biggest seaport of Kislev, Erengrad was also on the border with Ostland one of the northern provinces of the Empire. The city was rebuilding after the utter devastation it suffered during Archaon's incursion into the Empire. Many of the stone buildings in the richer part of town were already repaired or being worked on, in other parts of the vast city, entire districts were still in ruin. Ramshackle shelters protected many citizens from the worst of the elements but it was clear it would take years to fully recover.

From Erengrad they crossed into the Empire on foot. To reach Hochland, where the town of Koerin lay, they needed to go far inland, so rivers were not an option. They travelled south through Ostland, the province was perhaps even more devastated than Erengrad, since it was not a vibrant trade center with revenue to recover. The towns and villages here were barely beginning to recover from the devastation of the war. However there were no signs of fresh raids in the countryside, the fields were ploughed and tended. Only the multitudes of homeless peasants in the bigger settlements told the travellers that many remote parts of the province were still not safe to return to.

They travelled south through Wolfenburg. The city, which was the provincial capital, showed more concentrated efforts at rebuilding. The city walls were freshly repaired and most of the city quarters were largely filled with fresh, though hastily erected, wooden buildings. Many were still being worked on, and here in the capital too; many homeless begged in the streets or performed whatever small jobs they could for a few copper coins. Neither Ulrich nor Uve enjoyed pushing through the masses of the homeless in the streets with much thieving and fighting all over the city streets, so after one night in the city, they headed west towards the province of Hochland.

They crossed the bridge on the Wolf's Run River two days later near the ruins of the Lenkster castle. The ruins had not yet seen any attempts at rebuilding, save the construction of several wooden buildings against the ruined walls to shelter the garrison soldiers.

Once in Hochland, Uve suggested they follow the old road that followed the southern edge of the Middle Mountains. This road connected Hochland, Middenland and eventually, far in the west, the free city of Marienburg. Currently it also served as an important supply route from the less devastated parts of the Empire to Ostland and further on through Erengrad to Kislev. It was up this road that many of the soldiers who were now fighting around Praag had come from Middenland. But Uve and Ulrich only had to travel about fifty miles west to the small town and castle of Koerin.

They approached the town at dusk, as much by circumstance as by plan; they did not want to be seen by too many curious eyes. The town was small compared to most settlements they saw passing through the Empire. It was centred on a small triangular market with solid stone townhouses lining its sides. Outside the centre there were several other wooden buildings and village spread either side of the road. There was no wall or palisade, though there were stone gateways, built between buildings, they closed off the roads leading out of each corner of the market. The third corner of the market pointed towards the north, there the houses ended more abruptly and much of the road was clear either side. It led a couple hundred paces further and up the gentle slope of a hill, which overlooked the city. Even in the dusk they could see the grey shape of the Koerin Castle, it was hexagonal in shape and though it did not encompass a large area it had quite high walls for such a small construction.

The men entered the town via the western gateway; it was built out of solid limestone blocks, with a parapet on top for guards to overlook the road. Though there was no guard on duty now and the wooden gate, which was wide open now, looked like it had seen better days. Fresh spring weeds grew out here and there between the thick weather worn planks. No one bothered the men as they stopped in front of one of the large taverns on the southern side of the market. The building was much bigger than needed by such a small town, a testament to the relative importance of the trade route. The sign hanging above the entrance proclaimed: "The Boar's Head" though the drawing of the head itself had faded almost beyond recognition. On the wall by the door, however, a fresh torch burned in an iron holder and the rest of the building looked to be well taken care off.

The inside of the tavern was pleasantly warm; here in the south the spring was already in full bloom tending towards summer but the evenings were still cool. Several travellers were eating their evening meal in the large interior. Most of them looked to be small-time merchants passing through the town. A couple of uniformed men in one of the corners were most likely army messengers. Finally an unmistakably black clad figure of a Witch Hunter sat alone away from the rest of the guests. Ulrich gave him a studying look. From time to time the Witch Hunter would cast a look of clear disdain at the small altar set into the wall behind the bar, it bore several carved figures of minor forest spirits. Ulrich had heard that the old faith, which was common in Kislev, was still followed in northern parts of the Empire. Evidently, the Witch Hunter found this disturbing. No one gave the two new travellers more than a passing look as they made their way to the bar. Above the bar a portrait hung, it looked as if the artist tried to imagine what Ulrich would look like in thirty years.

"Maybe I better do the talking while you try not to draw attention to yourself." whispered Uve pointing to the uncanny likeness. Ulrich pulled his hood up a little.

"Bartender! We'll need a large hot meal after the road, roast meat maybe? And some decent ale and a room for the night as well."

The barman gave him a scolding look but aloud he praised the boar roast they were known for and home made ale asking them to sit down comfortably and wait a few moments for the food and drink. He disappeared into a door that led into the kitchens from behind the bar and returned moments later with a fully laden tray. But as he put the ale on the table he gave Ulrich another withering look.

"You should have come to the back of the building not here where people can see you. Now eat and go upstairs as quickly as possible I will see you there when I can."

Ulrich thought the notion of being recognised silly, he had never visited Koerin, so it seemed ridiculous that anyone here would know him, or of him. He had to admit the picture over the bar was clearly of someone closely related to him. Clearly the barman seems to have recognised him as well, or he was mistaking them for someone else. Regardless of his doubts they did as instructed, eating their fill and retiring to a room upstairs while most of the other guests were still eating, drinking and in a couple cases attempting to sing.

One particularly misguided attempt at an old army marching song was audible even through the closed door to their room, the singer filling it with much emotion and effort though little talent, when a knock sounded on the door. Feeling a little more cautious after the bartender's warning, Ulrich stood back from the door with a hand on one of his pistols while Uve carefully opened the door. It was the bartender, now that they were alone Ulrich looked at the man more carefully. His black hair was beginning to show some grey, he was in his late forties, he was not particularly tall and he seemed much too thin for a bartender. There was something about him, which reminded Ulrich of Uve's father Andreas, the man may have been taken out of the army, but it was clear from his demeanour that the army never left him.

Quick introductions followed, his name was Ulf and he was, as Ulrich suspected, another member of the Drakwald Foxes, the unit Andreas and Johan had been part of in their time. At the time of Ulrich's disappearance, Ulf was a young soldier with no rank, an ordinary trooper, hence it was considered he could stay behind in Koerin safely with no one bothering too much about what he may or may not know.

"We shouldn't spend too much time here talking, you were lucky that few locals come to the tavern but we can't be too careful, if you are found too early you will be killed." Ulf became more insistent as he spoke the words.

"They already tried it in Kislev, they killed Johan, though at the time I am not sure if they knew about me."

Ulf cursed. "The Baroness must have learned something when she got hold of your grandfather's secret papers. His advisor Winfred kept them, but he died recently and we had no way of checking his possessions in the castle before she got to them. Over the years the old baroness, your grandmother, has been eliminating anyone from the castle she suspected of being loyal to your grandfather. She replaces them with her own people, no one knows where they come from or who they are, they simply arrive at the castle from outside of Koerin."

"So it is my grandmother that is behind the plot to kill me?" asked Ulrich outraged that his own grandmother would be against him.

"Maybe, most likely, but you have more enemies than that. We need to leave now, if they killed Johan, they may be out on the lookout for anything unusual. Go out the back, the tavern boy will take you to Manfred's place. Manfred is the oldest officer of the Foxes who stayed near Koerin to keep an eye on things. He will explain the details."

They left the tavern immediately, though when it came to it, Ulf could not find the tavern boy and had to show them the way himself. He clearly didn't like it and muttered about giving away too much by unusual behaviour as they slipped into the night at the back of the tavern. He stopped muttering when they had walked for about an hour. They had walked clear of the town then around its east side heading north. Ulf brought only one small shuttered lantern so as not to give away their position. They had started to climb a hill, it was the same hill the castle was on though they kept well clear of it, when Ulf looked back towards the town and cursed loudly. They all looked back towards the town, one of the buildings near the town square was on fire.

"The tavern?" asked Uve as neither him nor Ulrich knew the town well enough to be able to distinguish in the dark.

"Yes, the tavern." Ulf said through clenched teeth.

"You have any family there?"

"No, though I hope the staff will be ok. Never did enjoy running the place, but we needed to know the goings on of the town and a tavern was perfect cover. It fell to me since I was the youngest and considered clueless by the Baroness and her advisors. At least at that time I was, clearly they were watching now. Did you see or talk to anyone in the town before you entered the tavern?"

"No, well only your tavern boy; before we went in he asked if we had horses."

" Curious. She had to have someone watching. We better hurry up, they will realise we were not inside soon enough."

They marched through the darkness for another couple of hours, up the side of the hill. They were following a small trail at first and then, when it crossed a stream, they turned and walked up the streambed itself for a while. Finally, they came to a small clearing from which they could see they had walked past and above castle. At one end of the clearing was a small trapper's hut. A tall white haired man opened the door for them. He was holding a crossbow but relaxed when he saw Ulf. Still, he came out and took a careful look around the clearing, listening intently as he did so. Then, without speaking, he motioned them inside. The interior of the hut was not as cramped as Ulrich expected, the hut was dug a about three feet into the hill, so instead of having to duck they actually had plenty of head room.

Once inside, the old man stirred up the embers of a fire in a pit in the middle of the room. Once the fire picked up again, they could see he was very thin and well into his seventies, though still looked able bodied. He laid the crossbow down gently on a bench, without taking the bolt off. He put a metal pot on the hook hanging above the fire from a chain. Only then he took a look at the people who came in. First, he smiled briefly at Ulf, then looked Uve up and down, studying the facial features of the big man with interest finally, he looked over at Ulrich. When he did so his face changed, a look of surprise crossed it and the colour drained from his skin a little. He stood up and gave a formal bow to Ulrich. Then said:

"So it begins. My lord, I served your grandfather and now I am at your service."

"Thank you Manfred, please do not address me as a lord, I am nothing more than a trapper."

"My dear Ulrich, whom I watched as a babe, you are no such thing, or else the last twenty years of our service would have been for naught. You should know that it is not merely the Foxes that await your return, since your grandfather's demise your grandmother has mistreated the people, forsaken the land and ruined the finance and defences of the Barony. Your father still lives but he never recovered from the loss of your mother, so he spends more time out hunting than a pack of wolves. Your uncle too still lives, we think, but is of poor health and is never seen. The land and the people of Koerin need a new strong and righteous Baron who will put things right."

Ulrich was taken aback by the man's intense speech and voice filled with confidence and belief in him. He certainly hadn't thought about becoming a Baron, all he wanted was to solve Johan's death and punish those responsible. The idea of ruling a barony seemed absurd to him and was one that had not occurred to him on this journey.

"Give the kid a little time Manfred, I don't think he knows much about the affairs of the Barony yet, remember that Johan was not to tell him anything to keep him from giving himself away. And Johan wasn't the one to send him back. Assassins from the Barony sought them out in Kislev and killed Johan."

"Ah, so she knows." Manfred said thoughtfully as he walked over to one of the bags hanging on the wall and pulled a fistful of dried leaves from it. He turned back to the fire and dropped the herbs into the pot of warming water.

"Not necessarily, those who killed grandfather, I mean Johan, they didn't seem to know abut me. As far as I can tell, we killed all of them, so no word got back."

"Even if she didn't know then, somehow she must have found out now, the fire in the tavern is no coincidence," replied Ulf.

"Were you followed?"

"Not as far as I know, we left an hour before the fire so it seems they missed our departure and hoped to catch us there. I think we should be safe till morning. Though if they were smart enough to keep an item of mine from the tavern they may have dogs pick up the scent."

"I don't think they have anyone in the castle smart enough for that. The Baroness's people are mostly brutes who prefer to solve problems with force. Still, we should not make the mistake of underestimating them. We have some time, but when you have had half an hour's rest and a warm drink, you should go back down to the forest trail and lead off your scent in a different direction. Give it a day or two to make sure you aren't being followed before you come back."

"Signal fires?"

"No, the rest will have seen or heard of the fire in the tavern, they will know they should come here."

"Who are they?" asked Ulrich who had been listening to the cryptic exchange between Ulf and Manfred.

"The Drakwald Foxes, when your grandfather asked us to hide you, he dissolved the unit, but in secret he made us swear we will protect you and return you to the Barony when the time comes. At first we thought it would be not be too long before the culprits behind your mother's death are found but it was not so. Only months later your grandfather passed away, poisoned if you ask me. But there was never proof. So for the past 20 years we have been keeping low. Some of the Foxes like me are now almost too old to be of much use, but others like Andreas," he pointed at Uve "have had sons in the mean time and some of those have been secretly sworn in to the Foxes to continue their father's work. When the news of the fire spreads, I expect we should have perhaps upwards of forty well-trained men gathered here. But now, I think the tea is almost ready, have a warm drink, and then I will fill you in on all the details of what has been happening here since your grandfather's death.

They drunk the tea and though Ulrich was unfamiliar with the herbs, they did a good job of warming up the men, and keeping their minds well awake for the long story Manfred unfolded after Ulf left the hut on his errand.

Ulrich listened intently; this was a story of his family, the real story, yet it felt much like a dream. He heard much of the history of the Barony before, from Andreas and Uve, now he was listening to tales of his own flesh and blood. It seemed strange to him that he should consider many of his newfound relatives as enemies.

Manfred explained that his Grandmother was in charge of the castle in all but name. His father Wolfgang Von Koerin should have been the ruler after his own father, also named Ulrich, passed away. But Wolfgang had not recovered from the depression after loosing his son and wife, and spent almost the entire year hunting either game or mutants from one of the small lodges the family had, west of Koerin. So instead of him, his younger brother Herman was formally in charge of the castle. But Herman was rarely seen, though all proclamations from the castle still bore his signature. In reality though, whether he was alive or not did not matter, since it was Ulrich's Grandmother controlling the barony, over the years, she had replaced all key staff in the castle with people only she knew. Advisors, staff even some of the men at arms answered only to her.

Ulrich asked if his father had any other children, but Manfred shook his had and continued the story. Ulrich was the only descendant of the family, after his father and uncle. Neither of them had children, though his uncle did marry to a noble woman from Nordland who had one child from a previous marriage. Few people knew her family, though at the time she was introduced to Herman it was the old Baroness who had brought her to Hochland. Apparently, her husband had died in one of the many wars the empire led against the Norsemen. She was young and beautiful and the match was welcomed as much by Herman as by the people of Koerin, in the hope that she would quickly produce an heir to the Koerin family and dispel the troubles that befell them. This did not happen and eventually a proclamation was made that Herman adopted the young baronesses' son Harold as his son and legitimate hair to the barony. Few people welcomed this, since Harold was rarely seen around the town, he took no interest in the affairs of the people of the barony save to insult or persecute those who had the misfortune of crossing his path.

Ulrich listened to the story with dismay, he was glad to hear his father and uncle were still alive, though he was disappointed neither of the men was able to bring his family's land to order. He was also increasingly worried about his chances of punishing those responsible for Johan's death. All signs pointed to the old Baroness and she had total control of the Barony. When he expressed his doubts to Manfred, the old man replied:

"Your father, he remains our one hope of breaking the deadlock. Several times a year he returns to the castle to visit. The anniversary of your grandfather's death will be here in a week; Wolfgang arrived in the castle two days ago in preparation for it."

"But, you yourself said, he was not capable of setting things right?"

"Not quite, he is in a perpetual depression, the cure to which the doctors have not been able to discover. His mind though, still seems to be uncorrupted by the evil which runs in the rest of the family, though he listens to the Baroness when she assures him all is well in the Barony. If we can get you into the castle and confront them with the truth, we may be able to shake him out of his depression into action, and his is the only voice the people of the Barony would still listen to eagerly, even after all those years. He had many of your grandfather's good traits of character before he succumbed to the depression, maybe he can be brought back. Either way, only in front of him would the Baroness not dare to order you killed."

"So how are we going to get in the castle then?" asked Ulrich hopefully.

"Ah, well, we have a week to figure out the details," replied Manfred with a look of mischief on his face, which didn't really suit the grim old man.


	14. Chapter 27 and 28

**Chapter Twenty-seven**

Despite staying up late, Ulrich woke up shortly after sunrise. The interior of the hut was still gloomy, only the square smoke hole in the roof let in a shaft of light. Dust particles swirled in the air as warm air still rose from the dark embers of last nights' fire. Ulrich held his hand over the embers to locate where a few live ones may still be found. Finding a source of heat, he carefully brushed some ashes to the side and laid down fresh kindling on the spot. Soon, the fire was going again. Ulrich was just reaching for the pot when Manfred came in from the outside carrying a bucket of water.

"Ah, you're up and have the fire going. Good, we will have guests soon enough."

"Guests?" Ulrich asked looking at Manfred's expression, but seeing no alarm he answered himself.

"Some of the Drawald foxes you spoke of last night?"

"Yes, most of them will have seen the blaze last night or the smoke that still rises from the tavern. They will notify each other too."

For a moment, doubts crawled into Ulrich's mind. Here he was in the middle of nowhere listening to an old trapper talk without a trace of doubt about a half mythical unit of men who had been waiting twenty years for this moment. How could he be sure this is more than the old man's imagination? Even if all was true, would these men he spoke of suddenly drop everything after twenty years of ordinary life to come to his service? Perhaps though, he thought, at the very least they will come to check on the old man? It was easy to believe everything Manfred said last night, in the glow of a fire, but the tale seemed more strange when considered now in daylight.

What doubts he had, disappeared half an hour later, when he went outside to stretch his legs. From the clearing in front of the hut he could see a couple hundred meters of the path they had followed last night. Now he could see three men walking up the path towards him. They wore unremarkable clothes of villagers or trappers. Each of them carried a hunting rifle though, and their grip on the weapons told Ulrich even from fifty paces that they were very well accustomed to the weight of the weapons. Ulrich backed away from the edge of the clearing and called Uve and Manfred quietly, even as he got his own rifle. Manfred took one look down the trail and stated plainly:

"You won't need the rifle; these are friends."

Ulrich relaxed and put the butt of the rifle down on the ground while holding both hands on the barrel.

"Morning, Manfred!"

"Morning boys!"

"Everything ok? We helped put out the tavern fire last night but we could not find Ulf anywhere to ask him what happened. Only his servant boy was there and we couldn't get anything from him."

"All's well here, Ulf is fine, he was here last night, he went off to make sure he was not followed bringing our guests."

The three men now entered the clearing, all three of them looked at Ulrich and Uve when Manfred aid the word "guests". All three of them froze and stared at Ulrich's face for a long moment before one of them managed:

"Is this?"

"Yes, this is Baron Ulrich von Koerin, the second; even if he has trouble believing it himself for the moment. He is the one we have been waiting for, though it seems the Baroness too was waiting for him and is already aware he arrived in town last night. He must have been seen by one of her spies in the tavern last night, luckily Ulf managed to get them out of there in time," he turned to Ulrich.

"Ulrich, these are brothers: Erhardt, Karl and Waldomar sons of Heinrich, one of the original Foxes. Sadly, he suffered a hunting injury and lost his leg so he will not join us here, he also runs the smithy in town so they were some of the first who would have noticed the fire."

"Lost his leg in a hunting accident?" Uve inquired.

"A bear bit his leg off before he could shoot it."

"Ah, yes, that would do it, sorry for asking." Uve directed this to the three young men.

"No problem, he says he was getting too old for all the running around the hills anyway. He enjoys his work too and in his spare time is trying to master the craft of making the long rifles."

The three did indeed look like brothers, all three had the same black hair and rough facial features. They were not very tall but were built heavily, probably from working in the smithy.

"Come in boys, there is much to plan," Manfred said to the three new arrivals assuming the formal introductions were done. Then he remembered Uve and added:

"And this is Uve son of Andreas, who was also one of the original foxes. How is the old goat by the way?"

"He is still strong, but chose not to come with us, he was afraid he would slow us down and was needed back home. When we left Moraveny the situation was not exactly stable."

"What kind of "instability" stopped him returning with you?" asked Karl sounding slightly offended.

"A couple thousand beastmen outside of the town walls." Ulrich filled in for Uve with a look of amusement observing the impressed look on Karl's face.

Much of the day was spent on introductions as group after group of the Foxes arrived in the hut. If Ulrich had any doubts in the morning all of them were gone now. By late afternoon thirty six men were gathered, sitting outside of the hut now, since there was not enough room inside. A good fire was going in the middle of the clearing and several small carcases were roasting over it. Some of the earlier arrivals upon hearing all was ok for the moment, had gone off to hunt small game to feed the crowd that would gather. A wineskin was also passed around the fire, they had talked much about getting into the castle but no one had yet come up with a clear solution to the problem of access. The castle was not huge, nor well maintained, but it was built to be held with a minimum crew. The walls were high, there was only one gate, and that was well guarded. The planning for gaining access had stalled and one of the men asked Ulrich to tell them more of his life in Kislev and Johan's death.

Ulrich started with a description of Kislev, their hut there and how they lived from day to day. He spoke a bit about Johan whom he still called grandfather, by choice if not by blood, and finished that tale by describing how he had found Johan murdered. Several of the older men found it difficult to hid the tears in their yes at that point. He went on to describe how he chased the killers and happened onto Wilhelm. Then described the fight with the mutants. Many of the men sniggered or laughed when he mentioned taking his first shot with Johan's long rifle and being surprised at the powerful kickback of the long weapon. They stopped smiling when he described the mutants though. They muttered curses or short sayings that were meant to keep evil away. Manfred looked very thoughtful from that point of the story on. He kept looking at Ulrich with a distant look in his eyes while Ulrich finished the tale of how they finally managed to track down the last of the attackers in Moraveny. When Ulrich described the final act of that encounter Manfred suddenly raised his hand to stop him.

"Did he say anything more?"

"No, after muttering that "we couldn't stop it", he died."

"And you say he had no mutations?"

"No, not him, no mutations."

"You mentioned he had a medallion apart from the coins? Do you still have it?"

"Here." Ulrich took out the medallion, which he kept in a pouch since Moraveny. Manfred looked at it for a long time turning it from the wolf face to the other unclear design. He tried to make it out but it was too faint.

"I have seen something like this before, on a mutant we shot in the forest near by the castle some three winters back. I did not keep that one, but I could swear it was the same. Even the second design was faded in the same way and difficult to make out. When you told me the story briefly last night, I assumed the Baroness had to have sent on of her men with the hired mutants. But seeing this, I am wondering why he would wear the same design as a mutant himself? Perhaps the Baroness did not simply stoop to using mutants on one occasion. A lot of strange things have been going on here, seeing this makes me think that perhaps she has some mutants serving her."

"They serve no one but the dark gods, sure she could pay them for killing someone, but you could not rely on such servants unless…" Ulrich suddenly left off what he was saying. The other men in the clearing were silent too. The depth of the Baronesses debauchery only now fully dawned on them; it was one thing to mismanage the Barony or to plot against other relatives for control of it. Many noble families had these problems, but to serve the dark gods was the lowest thing any of them could imagine. Now too, they realised that confronting the Baroness and the rest of the family would only be the beginning of the fight, not the victory they had imagined.

Two days later at dawn Ulf came back from his mission. He was dirty, gaunt, and had a haggard look on his face, but a faint smile too, as he greeted Ulrich and Manfred.

"You were right to be careful Manfred; they did follow the trail. But it was no hounds they used. The things that chased me were three great lumbering beasts that even wolves would not approach. I saw them several times from a distance on the first day. They were not alone either; several men were with them. I knew that I had to take out the beasts or sooner or later they would catch up, so I led them up a trail I could oversee from a hill. When they came I managed to kill one and wound another. After that their pursuit slowed a little. But it was only yesterday when I managed to take another shot at the last beast and kill it. That stopped them following the trail. There is something else too. Some of the men who followed me didn't look right. They were slouched and misshapen but moved faster than most men I known. I think at least some of them were mutants."

Ulf almost looked hurt when neither Manfred nor Ulrich showed any surprise to hear this. He looked at one, then the other, he didn't have to ask before Manfred answered his unspoken query.

"We think the Baroness is serving the dark gods herself." He continued while Ulf stared at him mouth agape.

"The man whom Ulrich caught in Kislev had a medallion on his neck, I saw a similar one on a mutant we shot here. The Baroness didn't just hire mutants; they serve her because she is also a servant of the dark gods."

It took Ulf some time to come to terms with this news. Like the other men he disliked the Baroness but was shocked with this revelation. He sat inside a corner of the hut eating greedily, this being his first meal in three days while the rest of the men discussed possible ways of getting into the castle. Eventually, Manfred summed up their discussion:

"It seems no matter what we come up with we do not have enough men to get into the castle by force. So the only way we will do this is to gain access for a few of us under some disguise or pretence. Possibly a delivery cart?"

"The baroness does not trust anyone these days, every now and then I made deliveries of ale to the castle. Every part of the wagon including inside of each barrel was checked before I was allowed in. Even then I was not allowed to leave the cart and two guards watched over the unloading all the time." Ulf related his experience.

"What about a Witch hunter? Is it true here in the empire they have access to any place?"

"Yes, it is true. The Emperor himself decreed that no town, village or castle can refuse them entry, but they also have documents written and signed by the high officials of the Sigmarite Temple, those would still be checked. Getting the black clothes would be no problem, but the documents would be difficult to forge," replied Manfred.

"What if we didn't have to forge them?" Uve spoke up for the first time in the meeting. "I think I know what Ulrich is getting at, when we arrived in Ulf's tavern that evening there was a Witch Hunter sitting in the main room. Could he still be around?"

"He was still there the morning after the fire, he was angry about the fire. I think he may have thought it was set because of his presence. I didn't mention it before because it didn't seem relevant knowing the real reason for the fire." It was Waldomar, the youngest of the three smithy brothers who spoke. Now Manfred seemed quite excited about the prospect:

"This may work to our advantage, Waldomar you and your brothers are a normal sight in town, you can go there this evening and see if you can locate and bring the Witch Hunter, by force if necessary, remember we need the documents he carries."

"I can go with them, I saw the man's face." suggested Ulrich.

"No, your own face is known to everyone in town, the man is wearing all black and everyone is afraid of him, he should be easy enough to locate. Perhaps Uve who also saw him can go with the brothers as a backup and a heavier touch should it be needed."

Engelbert was having a bad week; first he lost his only apprentice in a skirmish with mutants on the way to Koerin, now he lost much of his heavier equipment and his horse in the tavern fire. He was certain the fire was set by one of the mutants; they must have followed him to town after the skirmish. There had been far too many of them for him to handle in the fight, he laid three of them low before Albert was killed and he decided it was time to leave. He managed to get clear of the mob of mutants and though he lost them, but clearly this was not the case. He was seething, the Koerin Barony was crawling with mutants, he could feel it. They must have felt very sure of themselves if they dared to come into a town and set fire to the tavern. Now Engelbert was sitting in the other tavern, the only remaining one. It was not nearly as comfortable as the one that burned down. Engelbert was contemplating his predicament; he had neither horse nor the money to buy another. He had no apprentice or servant to assist him in his travels. It was a long way from Koerin to the next town and he would not make it alone on foot. He could demand to join a trading caravan but they moved infuriatingly slow. Worse yet, before he could move on, he had to destroy this nest of mutants and had no one to help him. The town was so small he stuck out like a sore thumb, he couldn't go anywhere without being watched. How was he supposed to do his job? For all he knew half this town could be chaos worshippers. The only thing that made his stay bearable right now was the half decent ale he managed to get in the tavern. Engelbert was almost enjoying it, almost, he never enjoyed anything so mundane as ale anymore. His true joy came only when he saw a heretic or mutant burning at the stake.

It was getting dark outside, the Witch Hunter decided to go for a quiet walk around the town. After dark was the only time there was fewer eyes on him, perhaps this was the only time he could spot something suspicious. He got up, left a few copper coins on the table and left the tavern, behind his back several other guests of the Red Elk tavern relaxed visibly. A Witch Hunter in town was rarely good news, they took a hard line to the definitions of mutants and heretics and many ended up burning for little fault of their own. Engelbert walked along the shop houses towards the ruins of the burned out tavern. Stray dogs were still sniffing around the back of the ruins were a couple of horses, including Engelbert's black gelding, burned in the fire. The dogs looked up at him as he approached considered barking or growling but chose to retreat instead, he often had that effect on animals. The Witch Hunter didn't know what he was looking for, but the tavern was the last trace of the mutants he could find and he was hoping something, anything, would give him a clue he missed previously. Truth be told, Engelbert was not a great investigator, his mind worked in very straightforward fashion, he did not hide the fact he was a Witch Hunter and he was annoyed the Chaos Cultists and Mutants did not take the same approach. Where he did excel was the fighting, interrogating, and executing that followed investigations. For that reason he tended to frequent wilder regions where the chaos influences dared to be more out in the open than in big cities.

Just as he was considering in his mind, yet again, how unfair it was that the cultists in Koerin had so far managed to evade him, he heard a noise from the back of the tavern lot. Instantly, his mind switched from wallowing in self-pity to hunting the source of the noise. His hands automatically reached down to his belt for his two handguns. He used his thumbs to prime both guns and slowly edged into the darkness along the remainders of a stone fence.

"Psst. Witch Hunter!" A whisper came from beyond the end of the Tavern lot. Engelbert was furious now; they dared to mock him? They would pay for this. He moved more quickly until he discovered a man standing next to the trunk of one of the apple tress, which grew in the orchard of the burned tavern. The man was medium height though strongly built, he did not appear to carry any weapons.

"Who are you? And what are you doing here?" Engelbert asked angrily, he was not used to confronting unarmed enemies who were not trying to run away.

"Karl, one of the smith's sons. I have some information for you. But you need to follow me away from the town to somewhere we can talk without being overheard or seen. I believe the Baroness may have people following you."

"A likely story, and poor plan; lead the Witch Hunter away into the forest and attack in force ey? Well I am not that naïve. I will listen to your story, but not here. You will come with me to the tavern to be interrogated now and tomorrow you will have a public trial to prove your innocence or guilt."

"I have no time for jokes Witch Hunter, this is a serious matter, there are chaos forces present in this town and we cannot risk discovery."

"Ha! So you admit the knowledge of chaos! Kneel and put your hands behind your back!"

"Perhaps we should try a different approach." said Erhardt as he stepped out from behind another three to Karl's right. At the same time Waldomar also approached from the left, both men were aiming rifles at the Witch Hunter.

"Aha, a trap! I knew as much!" The Witch Hunter took a couple of slow steps back so he could keep all three men in his sights.

"If we wanted to kill you we would have done so already, lower your weapons and come with us, you will not be hurt." Waldomar demanded.

"You will not take me alive chaos spawn!" Engelhardt spat out the words, as he raised the pistols to fire, he heard a swish from behind, he ducked but too late.

"So much for your approach Karl." Uve was standing above the unconscious Witch Hunter with a heavy cudgel.

"Quickly, we need to get him up to the hut before he is missed. Witch Hunters get up to all sorts of things so they won't look for him tonight but if he isn't back in the morning the keeper may get too nosy."

They tied and blind folded the Witch Hunter, the knock on the head turned out to be more effective than expected so they had to carry the unconscious man all the way back to Manfred's hut. When they finally brought him into the hut and placed him near the central fire, all four of them collapsed from the effort. Even Uve who was almost a head bigger than the other men was exhausted. Manfred took the blindfold off the Witch Hunter but the man was still unconscious. They sent someone for a bucket of cold water from a near by stream and promptly dumped the contents of it on the Witch Hunter's head. Now he finally came too, coughing splattering and cursing. Manfred watched patiently until the man calmed down and looked around.

"Welcome to the home of the Drakwald Foxes, Witch Hunter!" he stated grandly.

"Are you some kind of robber band allied with the Beastmen?" Engelbert asked without curiosity, his mind was made up on the matter and they couldn't trick him with any lies.

"No, we are the remaining soldiers of the finest regiment in the employ of the former Baron of Koerin." Manfred's response was deflated, he had hoped against hope that the name would still be recognizable to some.

"Turned robber I see, and making arrangements for a trade with the beastmen even now I presume." Engelbert continued to insert more hatred and disdain into his tone than most of the listeners thought possible.

"Enough of that Witch Hunter! You have no reason to be grateful to us for the rough passage here, but by the time you leave here I assure you that your tone will be much changed."

Manfred explained what they suspected of the Baroness and of what was going on in the Koerin castle. The Witch Hunter listened with interest when chaos was mentioned but laughed the story off as a deception. Then Ulrich added his story of the murder of Johan and his own fight against mutants and chase of their leader. The Witch Hunter became very serious and was listening to every detail once the mutants were mentioned. He was more fascinated more and more with every mention of mutants, beastmen and fighting Chaos. Finally, when Ulrich finished his story the Witch Hunter sat silently for a while then asked:

"Do you have any proof of this? It is a fascinating story, and there are many details in it that could not simply be made up. Unless of course the one who tells it had deep knowledge of chaos, and so far, it is only your word. How do I know you did not play a different role in the story than the one you told me off?"

"This medallion is the only thing their leader had with him, but Manfred says he had seen similar on beastmen he fought in the forest here." Ulrich pulled out the medallion from a pouch on his belt.

"Untie my hands." The Witch Hunters eyes were intensely gazing at the small round talisman.

"You ask me to trust you, well you have to trust me too," he added when he saw doubt in Ulrich's eyes.

Ulrich accepted the reasoning and the other men in the room did not argue when he cut the ties on the Witch Hunter's hands and legs. Though Uve did look around to make sure he knew where his cudgel was. Engelbert cursed again, softly this time, as blood flowed back into sleeping muscles. After a brief moment though he reached out for the medallion. His eyes widened when he saw the unclear symbol on the reverse side of it. He reached to his belt and pulled out a small vial of a clear liquid, then poured it on the medallion. He dropped it rapidly as the metal grew red hot and the liquid turned to steam almost instantly on contact with the medallion. The men looked on with alarm, all but one. Now Engelbert's face shone with satisfaction, he used a stick from the fire to turn over the coin, which fell on the ground wolf side up. Now on the other side they could see a clear glowing symbol reminiscent of a tadpole with it's tail twisted up and flaming.

"Tzeench, the changer of ways." Engelbert explained to the other men. "His deceptions can not be hidden in the face of holy water blessed by priests of Sigmar himself though," and after a pause he added:

"All right, looks like the story you tell is true, now explain why you thought necessary to kidnap and bring me here?"

 **Chapter Twenty-Eight**

Nearly a week had passed. Engelbert sat in the tavern admiring the morning light as it lit up the east facing stones of the castle. He waited in the tavern for Ulrich and the others. As usual, few of the other travellers dared to sit near him. Engelbert was enjoying the morning. While another man in his place might admire the splendid site of the green hills and the small castle in the light of the rising sun, he was enjoying the knowledge that regardless of the plan working or failing, some time on this very day he would be fighting chaos.

Engelbert hated chaos and disorder; he had hated them even when he was a boy growing up in a Sigmarite monastery school. Many of his fellow borders there were like him, younger sons of minor nobles, but he never fit in. Most of them desired to become high-level Sigmarite priests or administrators at important courts, though they cared little for Sigmar or his empire. They made fun off Engelbert who told everyone he only wanted to fight evil. He was constantly the object of jokes and bullying in his youth. But he thanked them now, the beatings, and jokes, made him tough, the hypocrisy of their striving for high careers in an empire they did not care for made him hate the disorder the country was in. This led him to a path of pure and simple hatred for all corruption, evil and finally chaos. When one day a Witch Hunter stopped at the monastery for some supplies Engelbert jumped at the chance and offered to become his apprentice. The other's laughed as usual, but the Witch Hunter saw more, after talking to the gangly fifteen-year-old boy, and to the amazement of the other boys in the school, the Witch Hunter accepted…

His reminiscing was momentarily disrupted when the tavern door swung open. Three men dressed in black entered, most of the guests looked up to see who they were and just as quickly looked away at all manner of important things happening on or under their own tables and shoes. The two black clad figures turned to Engelbert; they did a good job he decided. Ulrich and Uve were dressed in traditional Witch Hunter garb. Both were dressed fully in black, and Uve wearing the wide brim hat usually worn by the order while Ulrich opted for a deep hood to prevent anyone recognising him in the town or at the castle gates. Technically this was not against the rules thought Engelbert, they would be his apprentices for the day, though he knew his superiors in the order would not see it the same way if they found out.

The gray eyes of a steel wolf's head watched impassively as the group approached the keep gates. They had travelled up to the castle gates with riding horses and a mule pulling a cart with the witch hunter's equipment in large boxes. Engelbert gripped the ornate doorknocker and struck the ancient gate three times. Thrice the deep booming reverberated through the oak wood and within the gate tower, then silence followed. Several moments passed before a square of the worn wood fell back and a badly shaven face appeared in the window. The look in the eyes of the guard shifted from boredom to suspicion and fear as he recognised the meaning of the black garb of the visitors.

"What d'ya want? We've no need of your services here."

"That remains to be seen, but it is not my services that are needed today. I came to ask for shelter for my apprentices and me while we work in this area."

"Our men saw you staying down in the village, what d'ya want to shift here for? The Baroness does not run an inn."

"Alas the payments for my services are often unsatisfactory, tends to be the case when you burn most of your clients I suppose," the witch hunter gave the guard a broad innocent smile and continued "so staying in the village too long is not ideal, and the Imperial law is clear on the obligations of lords to Sigmar and his witch hunters."

The guard considered this for a moment before he nodded his head and swung the wooden hatch back into place, disappearing from view. A moment later one wing of the gate swung open wide enough for the three men to pass through it dragging their horses and a pack mule behind.

Ulrich looked around the courtyard, keeping his hood low to avoid showing his face. He didn't know much about castles or masonry, but he was sure they aren't meant to have grass and other weeds growing between the stones in the walls. The masonry still looked imposing and the height of the walls made them a formidable obstacle to any attackers, but apart from the gate guard no other sentries were about the courtyard or the walls. Piles of refuse were growing against the inside of the walls; weeds taller than a man grew on some of them. In the cracks of the high walls even small trees managed to find purchase.

Even the large living tower across the courtyard screamed of neglect. Several windows were boarded up and pigeons had made of roost of one of them. Though he of course had no recollection of seeing the castle as a baby, Ulrich had a feeling of nagging regret to see his family's estate in such ruin. While growing up Johan had always insisted on keeping every tool and weapon they used spotless, and in perfect working condition, the sight of the ruined castle would have brought him much grief. This thought made Ulrich promise himself that if everything turned out well, he would do everything he could to repair the castle and bring respect to the family name again.

The guard led them to a wooden building built against one of the great walls, the stable, you might call it if you felt generous, was built out of various bits and pieces of wood. Most of the walls were patched and the entire structure stood upright only due to the support of the castle wall. Things looked little better on the inside, there was ample space but the floor was knee deep in old moulding straw and horse manure. Despite appearances the building was sizable enough to hold at least forty horses albeit most in common pens while the few single spaces for better horses were taken up by several decent looking chestnut beasts.

"Baron Wolfgan's horses, well bred beasts; the family has been breeding its own steeds for several generations," the guard announced with pride, and added with a note of regret. "Alas, that is all in the past, these days Baron Wolfgang is a broken man, he spends his time drinking and hunting. And with his brother Herman sick, he leaves the running of the castle to the old Baroness and that upstart Harold."

"And a great job they do," Ulrich remarked sarcastically before he could think better of it. Engelbert smacked him across the top of the head.

"Silence! You impertinent fool, we owe our hosts respect," he exclaimed and added in an apologetic tone to the guard: "hard to get good help these days, not much better than a village idiot that one."

"The lad is not blind Witch hunter, the castle has seen better days, but it is a virtue to know when to keep the tongue still and we best stop this talk, the walls in this place have ears."

"Well, the stable will do just fine for my apprentices, maybe the cool of the night will teach them to keep their mouth shut, while they unload the luggage could you show me to my chambers?"

"I do apologise sir, but your apprentices will have to sleep on the floor of your chamber, the baroness insists on very strict rules in the castle. At night no one but the guards are allowed to walk about, even in the stable." The guard stared at the ground not knowing how the black clad guest would take the news, which by most would be considered an insult.

"I see, an imposition to be sure, but if it is the wish of the Baroness than it shall be so," Engelbert replied after a moment's pause. Then he turned to the two apprentices and added: "Well boys you heard the man, unload the luggage, leave the heavy boxes here, we won't need them tonight."

"Yes, sir." replied Uve with relief clear in his voice as if he just escaped the gallows.

"Emm, actually I'd prefer if the entire luggage were taken upstairs to your room Sir, rules you see," the guard said politely but resolutely.

"Well those two boxes…" Engelbert pointed into the back of the wagon "…weigh twice as much as a man each, so if you want them upstairs you're going to have to help, but really there is no need to trouble yourself I don't plan to torture or burn anyone tonight," he finished with a warm, and only slightly threatening smile.

"Ah, well. In that case I believe it will be all right if they stay on the wagon I suppose, after all where could they go?" the guard quickly changed the immovable castle policy with a shrug and a nervous smile.

Uve and Ulrich took the horses and mule into the stable; they also parked the wagon next to the castle gate. When they were sure the guard went back to playing cards in the gatehouse Ulrich made sure the heavy boxes on the back of the wagon were unlocked and discreetly tapped several times on each box. After that they carried the rest of the luggage upstairs to the room they were showed to. The entire time Ulrich had the feeling they were being watched carefully, although he could not see anyone following them.

They stayed in the room until evening when a servant arrived to escort them to the dining hall. They walked through corridors, which, although swept clean, had clearly seen better days. To Ulrich it seemed no one took care of the castle at all apart from a little window dressing for when his father returned to visit. They were taken to a hall, which was clearly not the main hall of the keep and given food. They waited for the Baroness and the rest of the family to arrive but after a while it become apparent no one was coming. Ulrich cleared his throat and nodded his head at Engelbert than at the servant in the corner, signalling something needed to be done.

"Young man…" the Witch Hunter signalled to the servant "…can you tell me when the Baroness will arrive to dine?"

"Ermm, the Baroness Sir?"

"Yes of course, you do not expect me to eat in her house without meeting her and the Baron and thanking them for the hospitality, do you?"

"Well Sir, well, you see, the Baroness is dining in a different hall but she asked not to be disturbed, no disrespect is meant of course but the family tends to keep to themselves and don't entertain guests much."

"Nonsense, I would not impose myself so long as to require entertaining, but I cannot be so rude as to not observe basic etiquette. I must meet the Baroness and the Barons."

"I'm afraid I was told specifically…"

"Now listen! Surely you would not want to offend a Witch Hunter?"

"No Sir but…"

"Great! So why don't you go, and pass onto the Baroness that I wish to thank her for the hospitality personally, and will not take no for an answer. Run along now. Right NOW!" Engelbert repeated with, what he hoped, was a supremely authoritarian voice.

The servant apparently decided to take his chances with the Baroness he knew, rather than continue to test the Witch Hunter, and disappeared in the doorway. Engelbert and the others didn't need to speak to make a decision. They all got up as one and followed the servant at a distance. They knew he would only come back with some excuse of the baroness feeling ill and they would loose any chance of getting close to Baron Wolfgang. They didn't have to go far, as it turned out. After following the main corridor to a staircase and climbing carefully one story up, they heard the voice of a woman furiously screaming at the hapless servant. It was coming from an open doorway only a few paces down the corridor from the stairs they just climbed up. Engelbert took the lead and walked straight into the brightly lit dining hall, bowing elegantly, and almost sweeping the floor with his black hat in a superfluous gesture. He pretended not to hear the shocked gasps from the family sitting at the large dining table, he also pretended not to see the four guards in the room who moved towards them with hands on sword hilts.

"Good evening my lady..." he started in the most courteous voice he could manage and looking towards the servant who was now as white as the wall continued "…that fool of a servant boy must have garbled the message I sent him with or it would not have irked you so. I merely wish to bid you a good evening and express my utter most gratitude for providing us with food and lodging this evening."

The Baroness halted the guards with one small gesture of her hand.

"Ah sir, but you must understand we are in the midst of a family affair and may I say that your profession tends to unsettle most people, though not me of course."

"Of course, my profession does indeed not bring me too many friends, but luckily I am not in the castle on Witch Hunter business, it is the woods hereabouts which swarm with mutants, and the castle is but a convenient, and most welcome, lodging to pursue them from. But let us not speak of such unpleasant things. I came to give my utmost thanks to you for receiving us here at the castle, and merely wish to make your and your sons' acquaintance and we will make ourselves scarce."

Only now the Baroness noted the two apprentices who stopped in the doorway. Her face screwed up in concentration as she swept her eyes from Engelbert to Uve and Ulrich. There her eyes stopped for a moment and a look of surprise and uncertainty crossed her face, but only for a fraction of a moment. If she guessed anything about the identity of the apprentice under the deep hood she did not give it away. She smiled and motioned her hand around the table.

"Very well Witch Hunter, meet the von Koerin family. My eldest son Wolfgang…" Baron Wolfgang hardly raised his eyes above the wine chalice he was draining, "…my daughter in law, Baroness Anna." The woman she mentioned raised her eyes at the witch hunter with a look of badly disguised hatred. She was a slim brunette, middle aged and looking rather fine in a well-cut blue gown.

"My grandson Harold, my right hand since his father Herman is of weak health and mostly does not leave his bedchambers." This time her hand indicated a shifty looking young man who looked to be under twenty years old. His gaze too didn't leave any doubts as to what he felt for the witch hunter. The cold stare came from an unremarkable face with mouse coloured hair. Expensive ill fitting clothes and jewellery made the man look more like a clown, but his demeanour left no doubt that he thought himself to be one of the most important occupants of the castle.

"…and some of our most faithful servants." the Baroness finished disinterestedly with a brief wave at four men seated at the far end of the table. Two of them who sat on Baron Wolfgang's side of the table stood and nodded politely, though stiffly. The other two watched with sneers and didn't move a muscle.

"My son Herman, as I have said, is not well and is not in the habit of meeting any guests, now if that is all Witch Hunter, you have met the family and expressed your gratitude, now please leave us to family matters."

The Baroness actually turned back to the table as she finished speaking and paid them no more attention, although a small wave of her hand sent the four guards walking slowly towards Engelbert to make sure he didn't attempt to overstay his welcome.

"In truth Baroness, there is one more matter I wished to bring to your own and your son Wolfgang's attention." The Baroness looked up sharply at the four guards but it was late. Baron Wolfgang took a break from draining another chalice of wine and looked at Engelbert.

"Speak shortly Witch Hunter, you are trying my mother's patience."

"It is a matter concerning your son sir."

For a few heartbeats silence followed. The four guards froze, unsure what to do. The Baron's face went from a slightly annoyed to a serious, almost angry look and his attention was clearly on the Witch hunter now, but he said nothing, waiting for Engelbert to explain.

"Get out! Guards!" Even the Baroness was surprised at the sudden and high-pitched squeal produced by Harold. She gave him a withering look. Then turned back to Engelbert, she spoke up in a grave but calm voice: "How dare you? That is a family matter, how dare you bring the pain back to my son?"

Engelbert raised his hand to indicate he wished to finish, but the guards started moving again this time clear on where the winds were blowing.

"Enough!" the voice rung out from the door, it was Ulrich, walking slowly from behind Engelbert and slipping off his hood. Baron Wolfgang dropped the chalice on the table spilling red wine. The men sitting on his side went pale and stared at Ulrich as if he had horns on his head. Another high pitched, indiscernible, squeal rose from Harold at the back of the table but no one paid any attention.

Ulrich decided to address his father directly: "my name is Ulrich, I am your son sir, I was not killed nor kidnapped in the attack on my mother but taken away for safety on the orders of your father. One of the Drakwald foxes, a man called Johan, had raised me in a remote part of Kislev. I knew nothing of my identity until recently, when Johan, whom I had known as my grandfather was killed by mutants..." Ulrich paused waiting for another pitiful squeal from Harold to subside, "…I am here to claim my rightful place and seek revenge on those who ordered him killed."

"Impostor! Guards kill him!" This time it was the younger Baroness who shouted. But she was ignored. Everyone in the room, who had known Baron Wolfgang as a younger man, and this included the guards, knew there could be no mistake. Wolfgang himself stared at Ulrich with disbelief, as if a mirror had suddenly showed him a vision of himself twenty years younger.

Next, the events unfolded almost too quickly to follow. With a terrible shriek the Old Baroness launched herself towards Ulrich, green glow emanating from her hands as she lifted them over her head. But Engelbert, apparently ready for this, reached beneath his coat and made a motion as if to sew grain but instead grey powder filled the air around the baroness and she fell screaming to the floor. Quickly he drew a pistol and fired at her while she was still writhing in agony. The younger baroness jumped up as well but before she could start to weave a spell, Uve had fired a pistol at her chest sending her sprawling to the floor. Ulrich also took out a pistol and faced the guards, but they remained where they were.

For a moment everything froze, save for the scratching of the younger baronesses' fingernails on the floor as she breathed her last. Baron Wolfgang got up and motioned the guards to stop entirely, he looked disorientated at his mother sprawled on the floor and his sister in law on the other side of the table. Engelbert knelt over the old Baroness ready to finish her off, he hated chaos and she was chaos.

"You are too late you black cur…" the baroness cursed him "…for what you have done my Harold will peal your skin while you live. All of you are doomed, the Lord of Change will claim this castle before the night is out."

He eyes glazed over and she was still. Engelbert proceeded to stab her in the chest, several times, with a long silver dagger. Ulrich gave him an appalled look, the witch hunter shrugged his shoulders and got up.

"Where is Harold?" Baron Wolfgang's voice shattered the rest of the still moment. The guards look stupefied, not sure what to do.

"Find him! Now! Bring him to me!" Wolfgang roared with a strength that left no one in doubt as to who was in charge now.

"We need to know everything, this, this is, this is chaos." Wolfgang stared at the bodies of the two women with disbelief.

"I had spent the last twenty years trying to catch the source of the evil plaguing this land and the whole time it was right here in the castle. I had asked myself a thousand times who would lift a hand against my family, and never once did I suspect my own mother," he sat down and buried his face in his hands.

Ulrich was about to walk over to him when Uve put a hand on his shoulder to let him know now was not yet the right time. Then both of them turned to the entrance as they heard a commotion of running footsteps from the corridor. A moment later several of the Drawald Foxes run into the room with Ulf in the lead.

"We broke out of the boxes and opened the gate as soon as we heard the shot, luckily the guards were too surprised to put up any resistance."

"Lock the gates, man the walls with half the men and send the other half to search the castle. Before she died the Baroness said the castle would fall before morning. We don't know what exactly she meant or how she meant to achieve it, but Baron Harold is involved and finding him is the first step." This time it was Ulrich who took control.

The situation calmed down quickly, when Baron Wolfgang issued orders to all the guards to cooperate with the newly arrived Foxes. But a thorough search of the castle revealed only a rope hanging from a window ledge in one of the abandoned rooms upstairs. They were about to send for dogs to pursue the rogue Baron but before they could do so the sentries reported troops moving in on the castle from all sides. In the darkness, it was difficult to see who was approaching the walls, but much of the howling, bellowing and cursing coming from the darkness could not have come from a human throat, and left no one in doubt about the nature of the enemy they faced.


	15. Chapter 29 and Epilogue

**Chapter Twenty-nine**

Ulrich climbed to the top of the keep shortly after the battle started. The well-armed Drakwald Foxes were mostly already atop the defence walls firing into the darkness below. The remaining castle guards were few since the Baroness had systematically reduced their numbers and armament over the years. Barely twenty in all, and half of those were well beyond their best fighting days. What they lacked in numbers and arms however they made up with their knowledge of the castle defences and motivation. The news of events from the dining hall spread among the castle crew like wildfire. Most guards were ecstatic to hear Baron Wolfgang was in charge again, and amazed to hear his son Ulrich was not only alive but here and at the head of the long dissolved Drakwald Foxes.

Not everyone was pleased about this turn of events, the Baronesses advisors were arrested and sent to the dungeon. Three of the castle guards were killed while attempting to open the main gate for the approaching mutants. Clearly some of the castle guard had not only been aware of the Baronesses treason but also actively assisting her. The attackers too, although numerous, were clearly not expecting to be besieging the castle, their first wave headed straight for the gate, and finding that closed and well defended, they soon broke and retreated.

Ulrich ordered torches to be dropped over the walls to illuminate the darkness and make the work easier for the shooters, but those below promptly extinguished the torches. For a few moments the battle stalled and near silence enveloped the walls.

"Are they retreating?" asked Uve amazed.

"No, regrouping. They didn't plan for us to be here, but they still have an advantage in numbers, they will be back sooner or later, before dawn likely." Ulrich was confident of what he said, the Baroness had a long time to plan, and she would have planned for complications though she had no way of knowing about the Drakwald Foxes.

Soon it was clear Ulrich was right. With a new crescendo of howls and curses, a dark wave broke from the black forest and into the open ground around the castle. The darkness still made it difficult to see much of the enemy, but in the light of a few remaining torches, the defenders could now clearly see they were outnumbered at least ten to one. This time around, the mutants brought up grappling hooks and improvised ladders. Here and there stealthy shadows managed to clumber up the walls without any help from siege equipment. The Lord of change had presented them with claws, talons, long limbs even wings. This time the defenders had a tough fight on their hands despite the formidable wall they stood upon. In the poor light of flickering torches it was easy to miss a grappling hook, a creeping shadow or the lowering flight of a nightmarish hybrid of man and bird. The small number of defenders made it difficult to guard every stretch of the walls. Ulrich, Uve and a couple of the other Foxes fired from the inward facing battlements of the keep. The main keep tower itself was too high for improvised ladders, so a couple of guards were enough to make sure the occasional lucky throw of the grappling hook was not rewarded. Meanwhile the top of the keep was the perfect spot to observe the fighting all around the tops of the walls, and with the long rifles, Ulrich and the others were able to assist whenever mutants were able to make any inroads onto the wall.

Despite the hard fighting the casualties suffered by the defenders were manageable for the time being, the castle defences were simply too strong for a rushed badly planned attack, even if the defenders were few. After a couple of heavier waves of attacks silence returned to the night. Rain begun falling gently and put out the fires at the bottom of the wall, making it impossible to tell what the enemy was doing again. Ulrich met his father and several of the more experienced Foxes and Guards in one of the disused rooms of the top floor of the keep.

"Any chance they retreated?" asked one of the guards.

"If they fight anything like the Beastmen who attacked Moraveny then, no. Casualties didn't deter them for long, they will likely continue to try. But they may have given up for the moment to make more ladders or prepare to try something else." Ulrich was looking down at a large plan of the castle spread on the table, it didn't offer any weaknesses he could think off.

"A trick most likely." Wolfgang sneered. "Over the years we run into their packs many times in the forest, somehow, they always managed to slip out with only a few casualties, we never found their main camp. For all their bestiality, they have clever leaders who have many generations of experience avoiding Imperial patrols and Witch Hunters." An angry snort from Engelbert confirmed that he agreed.

"The servants of the Lord of Change in particular are known for using trickery and subterfuge, avoiding blood letting if they have a choice".

"This time though, they must have been really sure of their strength, they would not have attacked the castle simply to end up defending it from reinforcements. They must have great numbers indeed. Let's hope the town's people closed the gates in time."

As if to confirm Wolgang's worries, an amber light grew in the distance at the bottom of the hill where the town of Koerin stood. Everyone gathered at the windows that looked down the hill towards the buildings in the distance.

"Trying to draw us out." Wolfgang said, his tone emotionless, though the others could see it was difficult him to watch the plight of those he was charged with protecting.

"Don't worry …father." The word sounded strange to Ulrich as he spoke it to a man he had thought of often in his childhood but who was a stranger to him.

"Not all the Foxes are here, some of those who were too old to fight were left behind, they may not be fit to fight anymore, but they still have experience, they would have organised a defence upon hearing the battle here."

"The innocent always suffer at the hand of Chaos, those who can have to think of defeating the enemy first before giving in to their human desire to help those in need." Engelbert spoke scornfully.

"We must hold out here until daylight, it will become possible to assess the situation. When the Imperial mail service stops getting through the area, troops will be sent to investigate, but it may be a few weeks before we can count on any real reinforcements." Looking at one of the castle guards he asked. "How do we stand in provisions?"

"We have plenty of gunpowder and rifle rounds, the Foxes made sure of that. But the castle doesn't stock much provision. It was the Baronesses orders that it be resupplied with small amounts of consumables weekly. And the normal troop contingent is only one third of those we have in the walls now. With rationing we can last a week, if we eat the horses maybe two or three weeks, no more."

"If they keep up the attacks, food will not be our main problem. Already three Foxes, and five of the castle guard are dead, and several more are injured. If they attack during the day we can inflict heavy casualties, but at night… we simply can't shoot at what we don't see." Manfred spread his arms helplessly.

"We can chop up whatever wood can be found, the stables, even furniture and drop burning bundles of wood below. There is wood in the castle to keep some fires going for a few nights at least," Wolfgang offered, then looking around he added. "Those of you that don't have to be awake should get some rest, dawn is near, not enough time for another attack under cover of darkness. During the day it will at least get easier to keep watch."

Everyone but Wolfgang and Ulrich retired from the meeting room. They spent the time before sunrise catching up on what they missed over the last twenty years. Ulrich told his father of the upbringing he had from Johan and of the network of Drakwald Foxes who extended all the way to Kislev to protect him. Wolfgang told Ulrich of his mother and of his search for both of them. In those long moments before sunrise, Ulrich realised how much his father had suffered in the years that passed. Wolfgang on the other hand was happy for the first time in years. He had lost hope years ago, searching merely for clues as to who had destroyed his family. Despite the loss and the silent tear that came to him now, he felt new energy as he watched and listened to the story from the son he had thought lost.

Sunrise met Ulrich, Wolfgang, and a couple others, again standing on the battlements of the keep. They observed the smoke rising from the town at the bottom of the hill. The smaller wooden buildings outside the main triangle of the town were all burned to the ground. But it appeared that the stone core of Koerin withstood the attack and most of the townhouses were still largely undamaged. The mutant host was now visible. Around the castle they could see smaller groups of mutants observing from the edge of the forest on every side, but near the town larger mobs were arrayed, several hundred at least. They were camped on the edge of the forest all around the small town. The Baron ordered a couple of small cannons to be brought up to the keep battlements. They were out-dated pieces, slow to load, and not much use against small groups of attackers directly under the walls of the castle. But they could still carry canon balls all the way to the town and the mobs of mutants around it. Old gunpowder stores were found with the cannons, untouched since the death of the previous Baron, Ulrich von Koerin the first, Ulrich's real grandfather. The gunpowder was damp but several of the Foxes immediately set to drying out smaller portions big enough to help stem the flow of any afternoon attacks on the town.

The mutant army was slow to attack though; it appeared they were constructing rough siege equipment, more ladders, rams and a few small siege towers around the perimeter of the town. By late afternoon it was clear the mutant force was waiting for dusk to start their attacks. Siege equipment was ready at the edge of the forest around the town, out of range of any small arms fire the town's people may have had. Baron Wolfgang refused to allow the cannons to be used early, lest the knowledge of their position change the mutant's course of action.

As the afternoon got on though, horns suddenly erupted from the mutant ranks, a good hour before sunset. Commotion ensued everywhere around the town and near the foot of the castle as well. It appeared this was not part of the plan, but something forced the mutant host to attack early. They set out in disarray, groups of beastmen, spearmen and other melee troops running ahead for the walls before others had a chance to bring up the ladders and siege towers. This time the Baron ordered both cannons to open fire, concentrating on those groups of mutants who were pulling the make shift siege towers up to the town buildings.

Until yesterday all this was his to command, thought the Chieftain of the mutant host, who was, until the previous evening, Baron Harold von Koerin. Many thoughts were running through his mind. For one thing, he was wondering how he'd never considered the defensive form of the stone buildings of the town. After the failed attack on the castle he ordered the town destroyed, both to have his revenge and to draw out the castle garrison. But the attack succeeded only in burning a few wooden huts; when his warriors approached the town, they found the gates closed and marksmen firing at them from the upper stories of the stone buildings.

But he would show them still. With the death of both mistress Kathrine von Koering, and his mother Anna, he was now left in charge of the entire host of the Lord of Change; half a thousand chaos cultists and mutants. The wild clans of Beastmen from the Drakwald forests too had pledged their help, they were few but strong warriors. More were coming, even now the faithful were gathering, soon all of Hochland would be in his hands. Within a month he would have five times as many mutants and beastmen gathered. All he had to do now was capture the town and starve out the castle crew to provide a secure location for the faithful to gather.

For now though, he was annoyed. The take over of the castle was supposed to be easy and quick, until his bastard of a cousin showed up, who knew sending people to kill of the old Fox Johan could have resulted in this? The documents of the old goat Ulrich didn't mention his grandson was alive; merely that money was set-aside for some of the Drakwald Foxed sent off to Kislev. He should have thought more carefully about why money so much money would be given to one ex soldier. Probably he should have sent more men too, clearly the group he sent botched the job. Now here he was, the Mistress was dead and he was outside of the castle left to deal with the aftermath. Not only that, but after last nights failures another complication appeared. He had to order the second assault on the town of Koerin early; his scouts reported a column of riders on the east road from the direction of Breder. It could not be the regular garrison, they were still recovering from the bout of plague that wrecked the town a few months back; he allowed himself a self-congratulatory smile on that note. The riders were most likely travellers grouping for safety. Who ever it was, they would be in for a nasty surprise when they come across the beastmen he sent their way. Still, it was necessary to capture the town quickly, now that the gathering had started staying in the open was dangerous, surprises were not good while they were at their most venerable.

The thought had barely passed his mind when the world turned upside down around him, for a moment all he could hear was loud whistling. He was down on the ground covered with dirt and bloody gore. Harold scrambled to his knees, ears full of ringing, as his eyes searched out for answers. Ten paces from him a small crater was smoking where a group of spearmen stood a few moments ago. The answer dawned on him slowly, he looked towards the castle, sure enough a cloud of smoke was just now clearing the battlements of the keep. Cannons?! The castle had cannons?! How did the old hag miss that in the armoury records? Perhaps, he should have searched the old stores in the dungeon, like she told him. He could certainly use some cannons now, and having some firing at him was not exactly what he meant. His head was beginning to clear when a second explosion rocked the ground; this time a siege tower exploded into splinters fifty paces from Harold. He cursed and turned towards the keep again, he waited and counted, ten, twenty, thirty, this was it, no more was coming. They had only two cannons! Blessed be the Lord of Change, this at least was a saving grace.

The Chieftain looked towards the town, his troops were still approaching the walls. Here and there they were already pushing ladders up to the buildings. Although the backs of the town houses formed a solid stonewall, the uneven heights and the lack of regular battlements on top made it quite difficult for the defenders to shift their forces effectively. The few beastmen he had under command so far, unfortunately had little concept of strategy, and run straight onto the nearest section of buildings they could get to. But they drew a lot of fire and allowed the mutants and cultists to concentrate their efforts on the weaker sections. Already several mutants were fighting a group of the defenders on the roof of one low building.

Something whistled past Harold's ear and one of the larger beastmen he chose for his bodyguard dropped dead with a split skull. The small arms fire from the town was limited, but some of the shots were unnervingly accurate even at long distance, Harold suspected some of the dreaded Drakwald Foxed were amongst the town defenders. That was another thing he thought, as he ducked down a bit lower, how could his grandmother miss the existence of a well-trained militia at least forty strong for so many years? How could they possibly keep up the training and manpower for so long? When they discovered the deceased Baron's documents and mention of the Drakwald Foxed they had no idea how serious a problem they would turn out to be. Both Harold and Katherine thought a few murders in the dark would solve any possible complications from that angle. But last night's assault on the castle they had cost him nearly a hundred troops dead or wounded, all because of the Foxes. At least the castle was low on provisions, he had made sure of that weeks in advance, once the town was his all he had to do was maintain a guard around it for a week or two and they would soften up. Meanwhile, his troops had managed to set fire to one of the buildings forcing the defenders out. He smiled, despite the setbacks the plan was still working, soon he would pledge the town, castle then province to his lord and get his just reward, he would live on as a demon lord for eternity.

Wilhelm was just cleaning his sabre; he was surprised to have run into beastmen this far into imperial land… pleasantly surprised. After parting with Ulrich he rested in Gutaidra for a week while his regiment recovered. During that week though the front line of the campaign had shifted again, the Tsarina's winged lancers had destroyed the smaller advance horde of beastmen attempting to besiege Gutaidra. Then the combined Kislev and Imperial cavalry force took to the road overnight and surprised the main Chaos force still besieging Praag with its back unguarded. The messengers who came back from that battle reported that the slaughter was so large none there recalled ever taking part in its equal before. By the time the regiment had rested, rearmed, healed and recruited some replacements for fallen or disabled soldiers, the campaign was just about done, weeks of mopping up were to follow but General Schwartz sent a letter releasing Wilhelm and his pistoliers to return home. Disappointed at missing the main battle of the campaign, the soldiers easily agreed to take a detour into Hochland on their way back south. Wilhelm promised them more fighting, but instead the entire road until this afternoon had been dead boring. Even Shultz, who normally preferred to give any combat a wide berth complained of boredom. Not so much as an angry barman had bothered them for days, and the landscape, since they entered the Empire, was forest, forest, and more forest. This day too, had looked to be another eventless march, until moments earlier, when a herd of fifty or so bellowing beastmen charged out of the forest.

Wilhelm merely smiled and ordered an about face. Instead of charging the side of an unsuspecting column of tired travellers the beastmen were suddenly charging into the face of eighty soldiers who had nothing meaningful to do, but cleaning their equipment, for weeks now. After the first pistol salvo more than half of the beastmen dropped dead, the rest were easily dispatched by a single charge.

Since they first entered Kislev the regiment changed almost beyond recognition. When they left Averland the regiment was composed of 100 Averlanders, all in uniform and armed identically to the last pin. The uniforms were gone now, here and there the original colours still showed through but most soldiers were dressed in a mix of Kislevite and Imperial traveling clothes. Random helmets and other bits of armour were added to the standard issue cuirass. Most rapiers were gone, lost, broken or abandoned in favour of sabres which were more practical during close combat which in Kislev turned out to be almost unavoidable in most skirmishes.

Even the makeup of the regiment changed, those who fell or were unable to keep fighting were replaced by soldiers from other parts of the Empire and even a handful of Kislevites. Most of the horses were still the large Averlanders, which performed well in the open plains of Kislev, but here and there lighter Kislevite horses could be seen too, several steppe ponies with packs replaced the cumbersome provision wagons.

Wilhelm considered these changes as he looked at the soldiers who were either cleaning their blades or reloading their pistols. Even the demeanour of regiment changed, carelessness and bravado were gone; they learned to listen to orders the hard way. He could see smiles on several faces now, like him, they were relieved to have had some action for a change. They were not the same people who left Averland, no longer farmer's and herder's paid to act the soldier. The experience they gained in Kislev would make them a welcome addition to any army.

"Sir, smoke forvord, three miles maybe," reported Grigorij, one of the Kislevite scouts who joined the regiment. Wilhelm looked west, now he too could see the smoke rising above the forest. He signalled the horn blower to sound the order to move again. A light trot for a quarter of an hour would get them to the scene, there was at least an hour of daylight left, so they could end the day on a high note he decided.

Harold observed with satisfaction as house after house was occupied by his troops. The south side of the town was burning and half the buildings were already in the hands of his mutants. True, on the east side, that closest to the castle, all the siege towers were blown to smithereens by the cannon fire. But to the south and west of the town a few remained and aided the siege considerably. Despite this, casualties were heavy, he estimated at least a hundred and fifty more were dead, mostly beastmen who were the first to charge, but progress was steady and dusk would only make their work easier, by providing cover from the unwelcome gaze of the cannons.

He looked east, no word from his Beastmen yet, by now they should have dealt with the riders. As he gazed east though a feeling of unease came over him. He looked down at the talisman his Grandmother had given him; it was glowing faintly, a warning. Of course, the fighting was all around him, so a warning that he was in danger could mean anything. Best to be careful though. He called out to one of his more trusted bodyguards.

"Urshok! Take the reserve cultists," he said, pointing to a group of three dozen rag clad figures who looked more like bandits than soldiers. "Go check what is taking Broken Horn so long on the eastern road. If you find any enemy left you know what to do."

"Urshok know, Urshok kill!" the goat-headed beast turned to the reservists cowering on the edge of the forest. "C'mon little horns, time to earn your first blood for the master!"

The reservists followed him eastwards at a trot without much eagerness. Trash, thought Harold, he had been collecting runaway kids, bandits, and mutants over the last year. He needed numbers, weak troops to harass travellers and merchants. But he remained himself that some of hi best troops came from just such beginnings as well. Much training and investment the mistress was necessary to form their host. If the new troops survived and spilled enough blood in the name of the Lord he would bestow on them gifts of mutation to make them powerful. The Chieftain gave the rugged group one last look as they cleared the town and set off down the eastern road. Urshok alone was enough to kill several men, with the help of that group he was more than capable of dealing with any left overs from the ambush, whom may be trying to break through to the town. Harold stopped concerning himself with the east and turned back to towards Koerin, it looked like the last building on the south side was in the hands of his troops now. The banner of the Lord of Change hung proudly on one of the taller buildings in the centre of the line. Pride swelled Harold's chest, many had doubted his skills in strategy and fighting yet here he was about to triumph over the very townspeople who gave him impertinent looks each time he had visited the town over the years. He stood up straight and motioned his bodyguards to follow; it was time to command the battle from a more dignified position, one more suitable to a great leader like himself…it wouldn't hurt if it was safer too. The sturdy building of the large tavern his troops occupied would do just fine.

Wilhelm could see the burning buildings in the distance now, only three hundred more paces separated his regiment from breaking out onto the clearing where the town stood. A shabby looking group of men run at them from the west. For a moment Wilhelm was unsure if these were refugees running away from the town or some of the attackers? But spotting their leader dispelled any doubts quickly. A large Beastman brandishing a two handed axe charged ahead of the rest. A few months ago Wilhelm would think twice about charging in, the Beastman was fully a head taller than any man he'd ever seen and more muscular. But in his time in Kislev Wilhelm had seen many such creatures and monsters far bigger too, so the leader of the rugged band didn't make much of an impression on him. Wilhelm ordered the column to shift from a long traveling column to a wider formation for a charge. The clearing either side of the road was narrow here so they formed ten in front and eight ranks deep. Then Wilhelm signalled the horn blower to sound full charge.

Ulrich watched from the cannon position on the keep. The battle down in town looked grim. The mutants captured the entire southern line of buildings. On the western side too it looked like they were gaining the upper hand. Only the east remained fully in the hands of the defenders. A flag of some sort went up over the tavern on the southern side of the town. Ulrich didn't know what it was, but recognised the design as one he had seen among the Chaos troops besieging Praag. His blood boiled, he would not allow the same wanton destruction here as he had seen in the north.

"Aim both cannons at that tavern!" he yelled pointing to the offending building.

"Yes, sir!" The castle guards had all by now accepted his position as the Baron's son and followed his orders without question.

While the guards who had been operating the cannon for most of the day adjusted both artillery pieces Ulrich looked on. The defenders from the western side of the town suddenly burst out onto the central triangular market. Groups of civilians run across to the eastern buildings quickly, women and children clearly visible in front. Followed by a rapidly thinning line of armed men who kept the attackers at bay. Fire redoubled from the eastern buildings to aid the evacuation.

"Hold! Target the western edge of the market instead." The soldiers looked up with surprise but started to readjust the cannons again without question.

By the time the cannons were ready to fire the civilians were clear and the last of the western defenders were attempting to withdraw into the building on the east side of the market. A large force of mutants was pouring over the western buildings and into the market.

"Fire!" Ulrich dropped his arm as he shouted.

Both cannons fired nearly exactly in the same moment, smoke drifted across Ulrich's view, for a moment, but cleared before the rounds landed.

Harold sent the messenger back to the building on the western side of the market with an order to hold the final attack for a moment. He wanted the troops to regroup for a final glorious assault, and of course, he didn't want to miss it. He climbed through the remains of a rickety siege tower into the back of the tavern building, inside, a couple of the more senior cult leaders waited for him together with one of the beastmen commanders. Harold accepted their grovelling greetings as he entered the building and made his way to the upper story. He positioned himself in front of a wide window that oversaw the market.

The defenders from the western side of town were streaming into the open space of the market. Harold cursed, they used the pause in the fighting he ordered to try and escape him?! He was furious. This was too much. He immediately sent another messenger to renew the chase as soon as possible. Several moments passed, the civilians cleared the market and the town defenders had also mostly crossed to the east side by the time the messenger finally got through to the attackers milling around on the western edge of the market. Harold could see one of the mutants raise a horn to his lips to issue the order to charge, finally.

A double explosion rocked the market; cobbles peppered the windows of all three sides. The Great Chieftain ducked down to the floor with a whimper. A moment later he looked around the room at his captains, all were furiously studying the details of architecture of the floor or the sealing. Harold's fury rose again as he got up to look out over the market.

The western side of the triangle was a jumble of the screaming wounded, the dead and body parts parted from both. Two small craters marked where the cannon rounds had landed. The same cannon rounds, which caused moderate damage exploding in soft soil outside the walls, proved deadly here. The explosions ripped up large swaths of cobbling, flinging it like missiles at the massed mutants. Those who were just running into the open space were massacred. Those few that escaped heavy injury scrambled back up to their feet and scampered back into the shelter of the buildings. Harold screamed with rage and punched the wall, which he regretted immediately. He would show them still. This time he would show them.

"Pull up everyone who is still outside, into the buildings on the south and west, hold until everyone is gathered before we charge again. Get a move on, before the cannons are reloaded!" he screamed orders at his captains and sent messengers scrambling to various sections of the already occupied buildings, this time he would show them, this would be the last charge. He silently made up his mind that he will execute every prisoner, feed their bodies to the beastmen, and fling the heads at the walls of the castle.

Ulrich clung onto the horse as he galloped downhill at the head of the small force. The Foxes didn't have horses but those few brought in by Baron Wolfgang allowed them to launch a small force of two-dozen riders. Ulrich knew they couldn't win, but he couldn't sit back and watch while the remaining town's folk were slaughtered so he set off as soon as the cannons had fired. The horses were fresh and eager, they had been kept saddled and ready to go since morning, now they were finally free to run. Breaking through the ring of mutants guarding the castle walls had been easy, they were not expecting any movement from the castle after a whole day of silence apart from the occasional cannon shot which flew far overhead. Ulrich slew a couple of surprised looking mutants who barred his way. The other riders felled several more. On Ulrich's right was one of the older men in his father's service, years of hunting and fighting mutants in the forest with Baron Wolfgang's force showed in the ease with which he held a sword and steered his horse. On the right Baron Wolfgang himself, who refused to hear anything about staying behind, also put Ulrich's riding skills to shame. For Wolfgang's men this was clearly a long awaited moment of redemption and their faces showed grim determination to take their revenge on the mutants even if it likely meant their own deaths.

Harold was finally satisfied, the messengers reported that all remaining troops were ready to charge from the southern and western buildings at his order. The old style cannons of the castle would still be only half way through loading, and this time he had a horn blower by his side, to issue the charge order with no delay.

"Now! Crush them now!" he yelled with glee.

The horn announced the charge in a deep booming note. Finally, Harold's wish to crush the defenders was coming to fruition. The battle had cost him, fully half his force laid dead in and around the town. No matter, soon he would control all of Koerin town and with the castle surrounded would be free to await the gathering forces. He watched with exhilaration as his force, still couple hundred strong, charged; beastmen in the centre with mutants and cultists supporting the flanks. A wall of smoke billowed from the buildings in the east, the defenders giving it all they had, but it was too little too late now. A couple dozen more of the mutant host swayed and fell but the rest kept on. This was it though Harold, no more excuses now, no more surprises, no last minute saviour the town was finally his.

Just as he had that thought, the road leading into the town from the east erupted with gunfire, horsemen poured in firing pistols then charging straight into the surprised mutants and cultists. The weaker troops of his host fell back from this sudden and unexpected onslaught. Another force of riders charged into the market from the north, not firing but cutting deep into the surprised troops with a fury befitting demons. Harold's mind filled with panic: what now?! Where was this coming from?! Why?! As he struggled to comprehend what was happening the town sallied forth from the eastern buildings. The beastmen in the centre held their own, but the weaker troops on their sides wavered, despite having an advantage in numbers. A moment ago, they were charging in to finish off the beaten remains of a town militia; now they were attempting to stop a charge from well-armed cavalry on the flank as well.

"Chieftain! What orders?" asked one of the captains standing on Harold's left.

"Orders? Hold! No, attack. No, no, no keep charging this is nothing, they can't beat us we have the numbers we can carry them."

Harold stopped screaming for a moment. He was right. He still had the numbers, all he had to do was make sure the troops held out against the charges from the flanks and slow the fighting down. Once the surprise wore off his troops would crush the defenders; in a few moments the beastmen would break the centre and be available to help on the flanks. He turned to the horn blower.

"Hold fast, sound the hold fast command!" Then the world exploded, again.

"We found him near the ruins of the tavern. He was lucky the blast threw him clear out the window." one of Wilhelm's men was reporting while another two dragged Harold into the main hall of the castle.

"I am not entirely sure if I would call it luck," Ulrich remarked and nodded at Engelbert. "Witch Hunter, I think you may be the person best qualified to ask my dear cousin some questions about the whole affair."

The Witch hunter smiled and bowed. "I would be honoured to serve, take him to the dungeons, we'll find an appropriate room for a long talk there."

Guards dragged the weakly resisting pale Harold down the stairs. It was well after midnight now. The chaos force broke as soon as the cannon rounds hit the tavern. With no leadership both the mutants and the cultists run immediately, the beastmen held out longer and paid a particularly heavy price for it. Surrounded on three sides only a handful of them managed to get out of the market alive. Despite their readiness Wilhelm ordered his regiment not to pursue the scattering enemies. It was one thing to rout them in a surprise attack, and quite another to chase them down in a forest, at night. Guards were posted in Koerin but so far there was no sign that the mutant forces showed any inclination to attack again this night. Just in case, all the civilians and wounded from town were brought into the castle. Wilhelm's regiment suffered several wounded, but no casualties in the short round of fighting, so it was decided that it would scout the nearby area at dawn the following day to look for any sign of regrouping enemies.

 **Epilogue**

Neither the cultists nor the beastmen showed any inclination to return, and some semblance of normality was soon established in the town of Koerin again. Ulrich become spent much of the summer healing the Barony. He ordered the forest to be cleared for one mile around the town of Koerin and one hundred paces on either side of the main road running through the Barony to increase the security of travellers and merchants. To achieve this goal he issued several foundation charters for new villages to groups of refugees from Ostland, and other areas of the north, devastated by Chaos in the previous years. Much of the wood was sold at good prices to Ostland and further to the rebuilding port city of Erengrad. The proceeds from the sales Ulrich used to equip the incoming groups of peasants with tools for clearing the forest and building new homes in the Barony. Each village was placed half a day's march apart to further increase security for travellers and villages themselves.

Wilhelm's regiment remained in Koerin until the fall. With the help of the Drakwald Foxes and Baron Wolfgang's remaining men searching the forest they were able to destroy several more groups of mutants. Harold's will proved to be weak, and Engelbert had persuaded him to reveal a network of Beastmen tribes and bands of mutants and cultists ranging across the entire province of Hochland. Armed with the information Engelbert rode to the provincial capital Hergig and informed the Count of Hochland. A large crackdown was ordered simultaneously across the province, destroying hundreds more mutants and several herds of beastmen.

In exchange for this information the Count of Hochland readily forgave Barons Wolfgang and Herman for their previous negligence. However he also decreed that rule of the Barony should pass straight to Ulrich. Ulrich became the ruling Baron, but only on the condition that his father would assist him in the task. His uncle Herman made a slow but steady recovery from his long illness, Harold confessed that his mother had been poisoning her husband to keep the Baron ill. Upon recovery he undertook to oversee the clearing of beastmen and mutants from the forests. The years he spent bedridden in the castle had their effect both on his health and mind though. He left the Koerin Castle and never returned to it, instead devoting the rest of what was left of his life to seeking revenge on the forces of chaos in the surrounding forests. He died that winter, his poor health not allowing him to recover from a battle wound taken in search of revenge.

Harold and several other prisoners were burned at the stake once all the useful information was extracted from them. Engelbert chose to stay and continue his work against chaos. He was, however, expelled from the Barony by Ulrich after only a few months because the Witch hunter didn't make much distinction between the warship of chaos gods and the warship of local forest spirits by many villagers. Although Engelbert outgrew his welcome, the multitude of cultists, mutants and beastmen whose destruction he presided over raised him to somewhat of a celebrity status in his profession and he went on to seek chaos in every part of the Empire and well beyond.

In the fall Wilhelm set out to return with his regiment to Averland, though he promised to return in the spring. For his part in the battle of Koerin the Count of Hochland gave Wilhelm a charter to form a free regiment of light cavalry mercenaries in the service of the Empire while Ulrich offered land and start up finances to build a regimental base in the town of Koerin. Having gained several good horses from Kislev and his family's estate in Averland, Wilhelm also intended to improve the Koerin horse bloodline and make a profit by selling horses in Hochland where very few estates bred horses of good quality. Though as the years proved, he spent much more time in saddle fighting in many battles in and around the Empire than he did directing the horse husbandry in Koerin.

Over the next few years Ulrich brought up the Barony guard to three full regiments including the reformed Drakwald Foxes. The original soldiers and their families were rewarded for their enduring service with land, and granted the privilege of enlisting their sons in the regiment ahead of other volunteers. Many of the Foxes who were spread out as far as Kislev returned to the Barony and several of the younger men that helped in the battle for Koerin later went on to be officers in the regiment.

The town and Castle of Koerin were restored and expanded. Expanding trade and market needs of the villages in the Barony allowed the town to attract many new craftsmen who settled in Koerin town. A second row of stone townhouses was constructed around the original triangle of buildings. Lacking the funds of bigger cities, necessary for building town walls, Ulrich ordered the building of a tall earthen rampart with wooden battlements, similar to those Ulrich had seen in Kislev. Three stone gatehouses were also erected, one at each corner of the town, to strengthen defence with cannons overlooking the walls and the approaches to the town from every direction. The castle battlements were permanently equipped with small cannons overlooking the town. The castle itself was fully restored, and many years later expanded. A small village where families of senior servants, officers and castle craftsmen lived sprouted around the castle hill. A large stable was built both to breed horses for the Barony and Wilhelm's mercenary regiment.

Years later when affairs in the Barony were in good order Ulrich, Wilhelm and Uve, travelled to Kislev, to Moraveny and on to the site where Ulrich grew up. He took a handful of soil from the place of his former cabin and the resting place of Johan. He buried the soil in the family graveyard at the Koerin castle, in a symbolic grave for the man whom in Ulrich's mind always remained his grandfather.

 **The End**

Afterword

Firstly, if you have read this far thank you very much for taking the time. I appreciate that fact that quite a few people have followed the story all the way through despite typos and likely a multitude of other problems.

Secondly, you would do me a huge favour if you took a few minutes of your time to write some comments on the story, both the good and the bad. For me this was a learning exercise, I wrote the story to see if I could do it. As it turns out I did do it. But I would also like to learn as much as possible about making it better for next time. I enjoy writing and plan to make it part of my future in some way, hopefully more than just a hobby. But I can only do that if I continue to improve. So, any comments will be much appreciated.

Writing the story was an interesting experience, the characters: Wilhelm, Ulrich, Engelbert and others were not pre-planned in great detail, rather they developed with the story, and only while writing I saw more of who they were. I would like to continue developing them, but the recent demise of the Old World makes it impossible to ever translate this or any other story set in the Old World into something which could end up being published. While money was never part of the equation for this story, going forward it would be foolish to spend copious amounts of time on other stories which cannot be used outside of fanfiction. So, while I may return to one or two of the characters in a short story just for fun, it is most likely a good bye to the setting outside of a hobby.

Regardless, thank you for reading it and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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